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A WOMAN ALONE 

IN THE HEART OF JAPAN 



The Little Mothers of Japan 



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n OPoman Jllone in 
tbe ficart of Japan 



BY 



©ertru&e H&ame ifieber 



ILLUSTRATED 




BOSTON 9 9 9 9^ 

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LIBRARY of CONGRESS 
Two Copies Received 

OCT 31 1906 

. Copyright Entry 
CLASS \ XXc, No. 
COPY B. 






Copyright^ igob 
By L. C. Page & Company 

(incorporated) 
Entered at Stationers' Hall^ London 



All rights reserved 



First Impression, October, 1906 



COLONIAL PRESS 

EUctrotyPed and Printed by C. H . Sitnonds &* Co. 

Boston, U. S. A 



TO 

^Hp Parentd 

WHO GAVE ME 

THE LOVE OF TRAVEL 

THIS VOLUME IS GRATEFULLY 

DEDICATED 

BY THEIR NOMADIC 

DAUGHTER 



CONTENTS 

CHAPTER FAGB 

I. First Impressions i 

II. The Cherry-blossom Season ... 26 

III. Sightseeing 48 

IV. An Overland Journey 69 

V. A National Rite 92 

VI. Alone in Nikko in 

VII. Sendai, Matsushima, and Ikao . . .134 

VIII. An Inland Trip 155 

IX. Sightseeing 179 

X. The Buddhist University and the Judo 

School 200 

XI. The Russian Mission and the Red Cross 

Hospital 218 

XII. The Great Japanese Industries and the 

Stock Market 234 

XIII. Woman's Education in Japan . . . 260 



/ 



LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS 

PAGB 

The Little Mothers of Japan . . Frontispiece 
The Author's First Ride in a Riksha — A Riksha 

Stand 2 



12 

20 

34 

38 

45 
62 

64 
68 

80 



Youthful Street Acrobats 

The Theatre in Yokohama 

The Theatre in Cherry-blossom Season 

The Caged Girls of the Yoshiwara . 

The Procession of Prostitutes 

A Most Distinguished Wrestler of Japan 

The Prelude to a Wrestling Bout 

A Wrestler in His State Apron . 

In the Heart of Old Japan . 

Snap Shots of the Procession — Banner Bearers 99 

Carved Monkeys on the Sacred Stable at Nikko 100 

Snap Shots of the Procession — The Sacred 

Shrine — Spearmen 102 

The Approach of the Sacred Shrines . . .104 

Clog -SHOP, Nikko 113 

Priests before the Temple at Nikko . . .126 
Dwarf Waiter at the Hotel Nikko, a Favour- 
ite with All 128 

Temple of the Dancing Priestess at Nikko . 132 
The Kindly Servants of the Kindayu Hotel . 146 

A Typical Tea-house 159 

KUSATSU 166 

Snap Shots of the Baths of Kusatsu . .168 

Geisha Fan Drill 195 

ix 



List of Illustrations 



PAGB 

The Famed Buddha of Kamakura . . . 200 

Professor Kano 210 

Red Cross Hospital Buildings .... 226 

In the Tea Fields . 234 

In the Rice Fields 250 

Writing - lesson in a Private School for Girls 261 

President Naruse 270 

Mr. Dogura 279 

Benefactors of the University : Mr. and Mrs. 

Mitsui, Mme. Hiro-oka, and Mr. Morimura 280 



A Woman Alone 

in the Heart of Japan 

CHAPTER I 

FIRST IMPRESSIONS 

A Fascinating Port of Entry 

It pays to visit the Flowery Kingdom, even 
though one becomes acquainted with the sea- 
port towns only. Yokohama, for example, 
is most interesting, and is full of piquant fas- 
cination. Though it is tinctured with foreign 
life, there is still much that is native. The 
embroidery shops of Honchodori; the curio 
stores of Bentendori; the clean, though 
crowded, homes of Motomachi; the majestic 
glimpse of sacred Fuji, from the top of the 
hundred steps; the blind shampooer sound- 
ing his note on the windy Bluff; the wee 
woman toddling along with her baby on her 
back; the gay-gowned children rollicking by 

X 



A Woman Alone 

the door; the multitudinous scenes of Theatre 
Street by night; yea, even our fated sisters of 
the Nectarine, are but hints of the many sights 
and sounds which will amaze, amuse, appal, 
at this open door of Japan. 

The customs inspection is strict, but po- 
lite. Bows and smiles prevailed with the 
bland little man who inquired anxiously about 
the typewriter, whether it was for sale or for 
use. He was rather stiff, too, about the shiny 
new bicycle which reposed in its crate; but 
the kodak lay snuggled among innocent 
wares, and escaped unnoticed. The man had 
no interest in personal finery and only wanted 
to hold up things mercantile. 

A First Riksha Ride 

Emerged from the shadow of inspection, 
the novice must make acquaintance with the 
riksha, that native vehicle, resembling a 
cradle with the hood raised, hung on tender 
shafts which end in boat-hooks. This cross 
between chariot and coffin shakes and trembles 
as one mounts, and I wondered how far this 
human mite, in blue sleeves and bare legs, 
with inverted dish-pan on his head, could 
carry me. He picked up the boat-hooks like 




THE author's first RIDE IN A RIKSHA 




A RIKSHA STAND 



In the Heart of Japan 

feathers, and trundled me away, full of the 
zest of a first experience. In the first rik ride 
one feels like an inspired idiot on stilts. The 
riksha grin of the novice is a worthy rival of 
the bicycle stare. I was lost in my own amuse- 
ment, and the grin stretched from ear to ear, 
absorbing every facial feature in a cavernous, 
jolting laugh. This was followed by terror, 
as I listened to the creaking, twisting my 
spinal column for a side-glimpse, and re- 
calling the history of the one-horse shay. The 
third stage was a struggle for dignity and 
calm composure, and I tried to look as if to 
the manor born. Lastly, I acquired non- 
chalant indifference, poking my head in the 
hood and my feet in the floor. In bad 
weather this little hearse seems an invention 
of the evil one, and frail woman wipes the 
roof with her plumes, and submits to a 
vapour-bath among the wraps. A sealed 
tomb would give up its secrets if dropped 
inside this Oriental sweat-box. 

" Rattle his bones over the stones, 
Here goes a pauper whom nobody owns," 

I quoted, as the human dog bore away, with 
his burden practically on his back and under 

3 



A Woman Alone 

his arms. He was a study in legs, a chapter 
in anatomy. Great bunches of muscles rolled 
up in huge welts to the knees of this typical 
*^ Pullman " of Japan, more primitive than 
we turn out from the car-shops. He pattered 
across bridges, shied around corners, dodged 
a stall and a baby, all but ground ofif the axle 
of a passing rik, but young and old turned 
out for rikky, as he had the right of way. 
He dashed recklessly around the curves ; but, 
when about to collide, he gave a twist of the 
wrist which slung the coach a hair's breadth, 
and disaster was averted. 

So he threaded a sure path among tortu- 
ous lanes, till, at the base of the Bluff, he took 
a pushman, and, with a series of groans and a 
shower of moans, I was borne zigzag, criss- 
cross up the towering hill where five sen paid 
off the pushman. 

Below me lay the tinder-box village of Jap- 
town, its huts thick as thieves ; the foreign set- 
tlement in towering dignity; and, beyond, the 
broad blue sea, with its forest of stately ships. 
Pullman dropped me with a thud, boat-hooks 
stabbed the earth, and I reeled forward in 
pained surprise. By the sweat of his brow 
and the strain of his legs rikky had earned 
his tariff. He mopped his steamy face with 

4 



In the Heart of Japan 

a grimy muffler, salaamed to earth in return 
for his cash, picked up his shafts and pattered 
to his stand, to crouch with the coolies, and 
while away time in a smoke till another 
princely foreigner enriched him with a 
fare. 

Only the double rik is sociable, and this is 
a cradle spacious enough for Lilliputian Japs, 
but two average Americans feel that tinned 
sardines are to be envied, and the tight squeeze 
and close shave might well result in nerve 
paralysis. Ordinary machines run single file, 
and to crane one's neck in conversation is a 
strain which only a hero could endure. When 
rikky is stocked with garlic and absinthe, he 
makes the air talk. He pegs on persistently, 
and his cords strain tensely, and with every 
jolt comes the thin cry, struck off in two sharp 
notes, " hey-ho." 

Earthquakes 

Even the ways of the foreign home are 
novel. A locked door is dangerous, for, if 
the earthquake-ridden land is going to shake 
with ague and have a half-dozen fits in the 
night, a twisted key would embarrass a sudden 
flight. Every one is warned to stand on the 

5 



A IVoman Alone 

threshold when the shakes come, or, if door- 
ways give out, one should leap to the window- 
sill. My first experience of that ominous 
thrill, which I learned to know and to fear, 
came in the silences of the night. The bed 
rocked, the house shook, the earth staggered. 
Wise plans were forgotten in the midst of 
dread reality, and I lay cowering in feeble- 
ness, sweating out the terror inspired by the 
mysterious force which mocks at man's frailty. 
Many a time did the swaying break my slum- 
ber, and menace the peace of the kingdom, 
and each time, with a heavy heart thump, I 
wondered if the end had come. It is the land 
of earthquakes, and they get on the nerves, 
so that one never grows used to them. Deli- 
cate instruments prove that there are often 
many quakes in a single day, though the 
tremor may be so slight that one does not 
perceive it. 

Community Baths 

The natives are scrupulously clean, and 
have their public baths on the main streets, 
where the vats are sunk in the floor, and the 
bathers indulge in a long soak and a social 
visit, after they have spluttered and splashed 

6 



In the Heart of Japan 

and soaped from the little wooden wash-tubs 
which hold perhaps a gallon. As the doors 
slide back in their grooves, these community 
baths are often open to the view of the passer, 
and many an Adam and Eve, sans bathing- 
suits, are seen floundering like seals in a 
tank. 

Because this nude simplicity was known to 
shock the foreigner, the emperor demanded 
that the sexes should bathe separately, and 
hence one often sees a bamboo rod stretched 
across the bath-house floor, forming the line 
of demarcation. Thus the fiat is obeyed, and 
the separation of the sexes is maintained. 

Modesty is a comparative term, and stand- 
ards vary. Clothes, too, are a matter of con- 
ventionality, an accretion of civilization. An 
American, visiting a Japanese merchant, de- 
layed his bath till the others had retired. He 
then went modestly and alone, soaped and 
lathered from the wooden tub, rinsed in 
clear water, and entered the large vat for a 
peaceful soak, when, shades of infant mod- 
esty! a tiny Eve, simply clad, — in a placid 
smile, — intruded on his solitude and he was 
forced to beat a hasty and confused retreat 
to ruminate later on the queer customs of the 
country. 

7 



A Woman Alone 
Graceful Manners 

At every turn the comparatively brusque 
foreigner has an object-lesson in good man- 
ners, for those of the Japanese are graceful and 
enticing, even though they mean nothing, or 
are a cloak for trickery. O Tey San bowed 
low and shuffled with extra speed on being 
called " the honourable miss." Toward day- 
break she shook me up for tea and after sun- 
rise she shuffled in again to open up the day- 
light. She giggled and grinned, cackled and 
chattered, and said " velly, velly soUy," when 
it rained, as if she felt personally responsible 
for the weather. If I did not rise in time, 
she toddled back with the anxious query, 
" No getty uppy? Sleepy? " and nearly split 
her tiny throat in a merry cascade of cackles, 
in recognition of what she considered the 
greatest joke on earth. 

Nor was there peace for one who indulged 
in such irregularity. Later the door opened, 
and the little majordomo, a human spin- 
ning-top, with immortal smile, huge head, 
and tapering legs, dropped in to see the 
freak who was too sleepy to eat. Evidently 
such specimens were rare, for he cried dra- 
matically, " Tane meenit pas nine ; no blekf as, 

8 



In the Heart of Japan 

make fire," and pushed in an ancestor who 
tottered around on all fours like a dusky 
chimpanzee and struck a spark in the icy 
air. 

Japanese children are expected to obey, 
and Spinning Top crowned his forty odd 
years with a deluge of tears, when his papa 
ordered him to marry. He defied paternal 
authority, and served our numerical meals in 
single blessedness. 

The menu was called in numbers, since the 
servants could follow ^' 2-5-7 " when they 
could never understand '' roast, carrots, pud- 
ding." 

Liack of Sanitation 

Those things which grow on the ground 
are forbidden fruits and are always tabooed 
by the croaker, unless cooked or peeled. 
Luscious berries and tempting salads are 
dangerous from lack of drainage, for, as 
there is no sewage system, the little farms 
are enriched by human refuse. All is not 
skittles and beer in the land of the cherry 
blossom. In the late afternoon the open 
green is beautiful beyond the huddled town. 
It is a wondrous picture of sky and land, 
thatched roofs and sacred Fuji, towering 

9 



A Woman Alone 

in majestic glory, but the air is defiled by 
noisome odours, which stalk abroad like grim 
pestilence. Coolies tramp about with yoke 
and buckets dangling from their shoulders. 
The green fields will be richer for the fer- 
tilizing agent which they scatter, but the 
beauty all about is tainted by the nauseous 
air, and garden fruits are no temptation. 

Street Sights and Sounds 

The essentials are dear in Japan. The 
tourist always pays the piper. Only in his 
laundry bill can he delight, for it matters 
not whether the item be a dainty kerchief or 
an elaborate gown, a boiled shirt or a ruffled 
skirt, two American cents will pay for it. 
Needless baubles may be numbered among 
things cheap. The people are all great 
lovers of nature, and the humblest have ar- 
tistic taste. The flower vender yokes his 
garden across his neck or squats at a cor- 
ner with fragrant hyacinths at five cents 
a plant. Gay pansies and modest primroses 
are much cheaper, and a pair of goldfish 
with rough-blown globe costs but two cents. 
Garden and menagerie grow up around the 
tempted tourist. Canaries, suspected of being 

lO 



In the Heart of Japan 

painted sparrows but looking like pure gold, 
are warranted to sing at twenty cents a throat. 
The candy man draws like a lodestone. His 
brown sugar and water sputter on the coals. 
The mass boils and evaporates and thickens 
to a little pat, which is dumped for an air- 
ing and is then all ready for use. Here is 
maple-sugar, also, in a solid mass, and a tiny 
child with a snubby nose and hair gathered 
in a war-lock, with dirty hands and a penny, 
runs to the booth, her face aglow with the 
joy that beams through the grime. With 
a carpenter's plane the old man scrapes the 
big cake and gathers the sweet shavings 
into a little wad. He cleans the last crumb 
from his plane, pats and squeezes the lump 
between his dirty thumb and finger, and 
then stabs it on a reed, which he passes to 
the enraptured child, as he pockets the penny. 
The gingerbread man pours batter into little 
moulds of Buddha and cooks it to a turn. 
It looked so good, it smelled so good, I 
thought of grandma and was caught. To 
eat a brown god with a muddy inside was 
not the delight I had hoped, and one ter- 
rible taste was enough, while the gingerbread 
god went spinning in the gutter, and relig- 
ious dyspepsia was allayed by hot water. 

II 



A Woman Alone 

Homes breed children, and in Japan they 
mature so young that one often questions 
to which of three generations a mite be- 
longs. Wee girls of five years bear the 
burden of a younger baby and play hop- 
scotch in the street with the infant strapped 
on the back. Baby's head dangles all ways 
and bobs about lumpily in the sun. He ap- 
peals for mercy, but he is only a pack of 
flesh, strapped on where he will make the 
least trouble, and he gets little attention for 
the noise he makes. But the Japanese love 
their children and are uniformly kind to 
them. Almost never does one see a baby 
struck. Neglect and ignorance, not wilful 
cruelty, are the distress of the little ones. 

Dirt and glare soon injure the eyes, and 
one encounters the blind everywhere. They 
march like stately phantoms, fearless of 
danger, swinging their graceful robes and 
feeling their way with long sticks. Rikky 
calls a sharp " hey-ho," and they are quick 
to hear. If confused in the locality, the blind 
man calmly plants himself midway, and 
merciful rikky makes a detour. Darkness 
and daylight are alike to him, but in the 
dead of night, when traffic ceases, the blind 
masseur is everywhere, threading his way 

12 




C/3 

H 
< 

O 

u 
< 

W 

PS 



In the Heart of Japan 

through the thick of Japtown far into 
the Settlement and on the heights of the 
windy Bluff, in and out of the twisting al- 
leys. Two high notes of his reed, weird 
and melancholy, far and near, sing through 
the darkness as he gropes his way, humbly 
seeking honest work, this unfortunate, who 
in many a land would be a beggar. For a 
few sen he will knead and pound and rub 
the invalid, and a livelihood is assured. 

Not less mystic, in the night, is the sound 
of the watchman on his beat. He is hired 
by the residents of his locality, and like a 
grim spectre he makes his round. His 
lantern silhouettes him, and his long pole 
strikes the stones, and his rings of brass shake 
out their metal cry. He prowls behind the 
match-box shanties, and his patrons know they 
are secure. 

Theatre Street, where bright lanterns hang, 
is a scene of innocent delight, with long 
banners of black chirography which ad- 
vertise the shows. Smiling and contented, 
the crowd struggles on, and the stranger sees 
the Japs as they march. Stalls of food, 
flowers, and crockery stretch far into the 
street; sweet potatoes, steaming from the 
boiler, are skinned for the buyer; snails, un- 

13 



A Woman Alone 

savoury rice, raw fish on spikes, are revealed 
by the flickering torch. Huge poppers of 
beans suggest pop-corn. There are forests 
of miniature trees, trained to every device 
of Japanese art. Three cents will buy a 
family of crockery babies stretched on their 
stomachs and raising their bald heads to 
show a single forelock, ready for scalping. 
In the shooting-gallery, the little lady bends 
low and presents a gun before we know that 
we are bent on war. The rubber pellet 
never hits the puppet, but another rifle 
splits a distant feather. On departure, the 
little lady rewards the visitor with a candy 
fish with red head and black eye, which will 
never be edible, but will serve as a souvenir 
till the sugar melts. 

Against a fence the palmist spreads a 
table of mysterious literature and diagrams 
of stiff, unnatural hands. The sleeves of 
his long kimono are full of magic, and, be- 
hind his horn glasses, he looks the patriarchal 
theologian. Being ready for experiences, 
the friend says " hands down," and there fol- 
lows a stentorian harangue as he draws a 
wand through the crevices and expounds 
with solemn gravity. There are queer fea- 
tures in this hand's history and the old chap 

14 



In the Heart of Japan 

turns from grave to gay. The crowd shrieks 
with mirth, while the victim feels very like 
a fool. It takes little to make the native 
laugh, but it would be less embarrassing to 
know what is being said. As the people 
chuckle and nudge and grow hysterical, we 
are evidently the butt of wild jokes. The 
philosopher pokes his stick between the fin- 
gers, to indicate that the victim will have 
much money, which will always trickle away. 
This gives the climax of mirth to the crowds, 
which roar with delight as the old man winds 
up his story and clicks his coin. He has 
them in good humour, and anxious to know 
their fate, as we leave him and saunter across 
to the auction, and the crowd again swings 
our way and watches for our bids as we han- 
dle the wares. The vender is young and gay 
and graceful, and he gains courage with this 
sudden rally. He flings the white goods on 
the air, and reaches them out for us to sample. 
Frantically he throws his arms about in dra- 
matic despair, in response to low bids. He 
is a study in fleeting emotions as he dashes 
off scathing comment and flings merry 
jokes. 



X5 



A Woman Alone 
The Busy Bazaars 

In the bazaars one is lost in a Grecian 
border of roofed stalls with their offerings 
of pipes, purses, prints, pictures, fancy tooth- 
picks, box puzzles, and every ingenious kick- 
shaw. A rickety flight leads up-stairs to a 
similar enigma of stalls, and we follow the 
narrow alleys where the tide of life is surging. 
Suddenly there comes a wild stampede. Every 
man bolts through the passage. The clatter of 
clogs makes pandemonium. At the exit we 
find that a distant tinder shanty is in flames, 
and a fire is always interesting when there 
is no hope for the building and effort centres 
on the wares in the neighbouring houses. 

The busy thoroughfares are packed with 
hives, where humanity asks little space. At 
late night the fitful torch and murky lamp 
still burn. Babies tumble about, and the 
family reads the news, foots up sales, mends, 
tinkers, sews, and makes the wooden clogs 
which sound " clamp clomp,'' with two dis- 
tinct notes of a high and low key, like the 
beat of a coming army. The inmates kneel 
on the mats at mcal-time, while the men 
manage the chop-sticks and the women an- 
ticipate each wish of the lord and master. 

i6 



In the Heart of Japan 

They crouch around the brass hebachi, that 
melancholy little kettle of ashes where flick- 
ering charcoal warms the outspread fingers. 
Later, they bring in the wares and draw the 
sliding wall of the little box which serves 
as home and store. One step up, they draw 
another panel, set with little panes of paper, 
and they spread rugs on the spotless matting, 
and the family goes fast asleep resting on 
little wooden pillows which would give us 
cramps for a week. Such is the life of the 
merchant, the average, well-to-do middle 
class. These are the midgets whose every 
phase of life is Lilliputian. Meagre and 
bare as it looks, it is the making of the brave 
soldier on the battle-field. 

The little people of bows and smiles see 
no reason for our aggressive speech, push- 
ing ways, abrupt manners. They have time 
to be polite. To them life means more 
leisure and less money. They linger long 
over a sale, and seem to care little if they 
make one. They love their treasures and 
know their worth, and the best are hidden 
away. The commoner wares are exposed, 
and the piece de resistance is trotted out only 
when the merchant sees that he has an ap- 
preciative customer. If we haggle below 

17 



A Woman Alone 

his dignity, he bows low, smiles serenely, 
says a gentle '^ Thank you," and replaces 
the piece on the shelf. 

The Kindly Natives 

If we are but a little kind to them they 
are supremely kind to us. One day in the 
train a wee creature cuddled up on her 
knees to me and began a voluble output 
of the lingo. I nodded and grinned like an 
idiot, but her astonished gaze told me I was 
unsatisfactory. At last she ventured, " Air 
you a chreeschin? Me too, me chreeschin." 
This is the constant query of the native, and, 
though I had started out with a confident 
reply, constant hammering of the question 
had brought doubts as to my surety, and in 
despair I sometimes startled the native with 
the answer, '' No, I am an American." 

This little lady fished in the depths of Ker 
cavernous sleeves, and intuitively I clapped 
my hand on my pocket. Why do we dis- 
trust the very ones who would befriend 
us? Do we accuse ourselves in suspecting 
others? Many times have I realized the 
meanness of my doubts. She was no more 
a robber than I was. We were separated 

i8 



In the Heart of Japan 

in the push at the station, but the conductor 
rushed up with some article in his hand. 
" It is not mine. It belongs to the lady," 
I said. He returned in a moment and re- 
marked, " For you. She say me geef you." 
The dear little lady had sent a souvenir of 
her friendship, a roll of gaudy circus figures 
whose mysticism I could not fathom, but her 
kind intent was legible in the heart language 
of the world. 

The Theatre 

The theatre is a continuous vaudeville, 
the delight of the native, where two-cent, 
three-cent, and five-cent shows keep the 
people in wild guffaws over the most child- 
ish nonsense. Clogs by the hundred rest 
at the door, and the patron is checked with 
a billet of wood in exchange for his shoes. 
The cheapest places are nearest the stage, 
and the high-priced people are banked in 
the rear, while the natives squat on mats in 
front. Flags and banners, dragons and gob- 
lins, array the walls. A dreary brass band 
beats out a measure. On the stage, the 
director and manager, rolled in one, a 
weird dwarf in green baggy breeches, with 

19 



A Woman Alone 

billiard-ball pate, rings a dinner-bell, and with 
Sunday-school voice tells the startling thing 
that shall follow. Stage demeanour is stiff 
and tragic. Fascinated infants toddle to the 
stage, till an extra wild lunge of swords 
drives them, fearful, back to their mothers. 
The Japanese are famed fencers, jugglers, 
acrobats; the clowns are done out in war- 
paint and whitewash, and are a few grades 
sillier than at home, but their simplest antics 
provoke side-splitting mirth. One clumsy 
creature repeatedly tumbles off backward 
into the pit, and a string of clogs is revealed 
tied to his waist. This is the acme of the 
comical to the simple people. The tight- 
rope walker performs his daring stunts of 
dressing, dancing in clogs, and catching trifles 
as he sways in mid-air. Baby clowns and 
girls of six years run a race on revolving 
globes as their tiny feet patter nimbly to keep 
the balance. One child, frightfully scared, 
is tossed to and fro, to alight on an extended 
arm, and mount a living pyramid, and pivot 
high on a slippery head. A little lad shins 
up a bamboo-rod, poised on the shoulder of 
a native. He swings and gyrates and per- 
forms his antics at the top. The crowd 
watches breathless, as the rod swings and 

20 




THE THEATRE IN YOKOHAMA 



In the Heart of Japan 

bends. Four coolies wait below, to catch the 
child if he falls. He slides half-way, then 
remounts, to pivot on his back, as he spreads 
in all directions, till he seems impaled. He 
catches a loop and swings to either side and 
revolves. There is more pain than pleasure 
to strained nerves in watching him, and one 
wishes that children were not so cheap or so 
plenty in the Orient. 

Little Katie of the Nectarine 

One would have no adequate notion of 
Japan without visiting the quarter set apart 
in the great cities for the slave-girls of the 
nation, and, with every ship that comes to 
port, there is a rapid trundling of the rikshas 
toward the famous Nectarine. Most men and 
many women, for reason of trade or curiosity, 
hunt out this strange haunt of vice. Beyond 
the pale of her private home, within this pub- 
lic den, pretty little Katie, known rather for 
her gentle beauty and her winsome ways than 
for her evil life, drew upon my tender love. 
She looked so sweet and innocent that one 
quite forgot she was a hardened little sinner, 
this inmate of the neat white house with 
green blinds, in a remote corner, catering 

21 



A Woman Alone 

especially to foreign trade. If the measure 
of sin depends on the standards of the coun- 
try, then Katie must not be despised. The 
novice in the Orient is often " dropped down 
gently " by experienced friends, and I was 
cajoled with the notion of seeing a cafe chan- 
tant, and dainty Katie met me and beguiled 
me before I guessed my whereabouts. She 
was so coy and artless, this child of ill-fame, 
that the term seemed cruel when coupled 
with the little maid, who suggested a bit of 
gay china. Her unblushing frankness had 
the naivete of innocence. She horrified us 
with honest talk, but she seemed to find no 
evil in her life. She was decidedly a child 
of nature, and her life was part of herself. 
She was only a little one, hardly sixteen, who 
regretted not her past, recked not of the fu- 
ture, and knew no shame for the present. She 
supplied a market demand. Let the shame 
rest elsewhere. She showed fondness for the 
white ladies who petted her, and she toddled 
about in rainbow robe, with gay obi, and oily 
topknot sprinkled with gewgaws. She cud- 
dled down affectionately beside us, and chat- 
tered in her broken patois. She rolled out 
ripples of laughter, that fell like a jolly cas- 
cade, when we paid her pretty compliments. 

22 



In the Heart of Japan 

The matron, tawny and wrinkled but al- 
ways polite, known through all the land as 
" Mother Jesus," filled little glasses with a 
tempting drink. The newcomer grew fear- 
ful. " Is it a put-up job? Will they drug 
us and do us up?" But there is no trickery 
in well-regulated Japan. Methods and man- 
agement are open as the day, as transparent 
as little Katie's heart. 

There came a summons for the girls, and 
she toddled away, to join the troop of airy 
midgets who thronged for inspection. " Many 
are called, but few are chosen," and Katie 
returned with a sunny smile. When asked 
how she learned her pretty English, her 
answer came with terrible truth, and im- 
pressed the moral nightmare of her life. " Ze 
gentlemen, zey teach me Engleesch." The 
frank answer startled and saddened the in- 
quisitor. 

I strolled to the hall, and looked off to the 
courtyard of flowers. A dozen little sisters 
threw wide their doors and urged me to enter. 
I must inspect their belongings and sit cosily 
with them on the mats. All were sweet and 
gracious, but no one was so pretty as wee 
Katie. I wondered what spirit moved them. 
Was it the native instinct of politeness, or was 

23 



A Woman Alone 

there deep in the heart's recess a longing to 
sit with one of their great sisterhood whose 
life was altogether different? They did not 
show that they knew any difference. 

Segregated children of the Nectarine, set 
apart in their little tainted world, cut off 
like moral lepers from the larger and the 
better life, generally the victims of the world 
which comes to them! Probably they never 
question the solution of life's great problem. 
There are no other women so dainty and 
pretty, so kind and gentle, so polite and gra- 
cious, so faithful and submissive, so winning 
in all their ways. Has their life no richer 
meaning than this daily round of sin? Does 
the present bring content? Or is there in every 
girl's heart a womanly yearning for a better 
fate? Are they all irresponsible, light- 
hearted children, whose merry laugh rings 
true to pleasure? I rubbed my eyes in bewil- 
derment, as I recalled the strange experience. 
It was not curious slumming in a big foreign 
town; for the new vision of life had awa- 
kened a great vexed question, and had wrung 
my heart with pity for a sisterhood that knew 
not its own needs. A wail arises for depraved 
humanity. Overwhelmed by the pathos, one 
feels powerless to help. 

24 



In the Heart of Japan 

Winsome little Katie has been bought, and 
has left the Nectarine. A white man paid 
the price. She will ever be a living picture 
on my mind. May the great All-Father re- 
member that she is His child, and enfold her 
in His mantle of universal love. 



25 



A Woman Alone 



CHAPTER II 

THE CHERRY - BLOSSOM SEASON 

A hand of Cherry Blossoms 

It is not enough to simply visit a country, 
for that does not mean successful travelling, 
nor imply that one has seen the land. The 
aim of the traveller should be to be at the 
right time in the right place. Spring is liable 
to be cold and dreary in Japan. There are 
many days of mist and rain, yet the wanderer 
who can control his steps makes a big mis- 
take in losing the joys of the cherry season. 
We were hovering over a hebachi, trying to 
extract a bit of heat from the slumbering 
charcoal for our frigid fingers, when the man 
declared he would never come again in 
spring-time cold and raw, but would wait for 
warmer weather. He little guessed the dis- 
comfort and the suffering from midsummer 
heat in fair Japan. I suggested that his rea- 

26 



In the Heart of Japan 

soning ignored the typical event of the year, 
the lovely cherry-blossom fete, but he bore 
down upon me with all the wisdom of igno- 
rance. He knew what cherry blossoms were! 
We had them at home! He had not crossed 
the water merely to see cherry blossoms! 

To see a single branch, a single tree, a 
single orchard of New England blossoms, is 
quite another thing from seeing the entire 
land swept with a misty and a magic veil of 
pink and white. It is safe to arrive in Japan 
the first of April. During the next two 
weeks the land is wrapped in mystic colour. 
Bands of diaphanous tints spread through the 
sky, as if Iris had dropped her dainty scarf 
across our way. Down the back lanes and 
across country paths, in the broad acres of 
Ueno Park, through the woodland, and along 
the banks of the Arashiyama rapids, wher- 
ever the pilgrim turns his staff, the beautiful 
blossoms are floating through the air, and life 
outdoors seems a fairy dream. The foreign- 
ers wonder and admire, while the natives 
love and adore the tender blossoms. Word 
is sped from Tokio to Yokohama, " The 
cherries are at their height to-day. The best 
may be gone if you wait another day. Don't 
fail to come at once," and the trains are 

27 



A Woman Alone 

packed with enthusiasts. fThe foreigners are 
there for no other purpose than to see and 
enjoy, while the natives are ready for the first 
excuse to picnic. They are devoted to excur- 
sions, so the little men close their shops, and 
the little ladies gather the children, and, with 
the last baby on the mother's back and the 
next one strapped to an older sister, they all 
clatter away to Ueno, where the daintiest 
shades sweep the air. They wander along 
the highways, and thousands of clogs resound 
by the banks of the Sumida, where the 
branches sweep off to the river, where the 
pleasure-boats ply the stream. The roadways 
are dense with the crowding, surging masses, 
all kindly, all sauntering leisurely, where 
venders of foods and of toys are making a 
harvest. It is a living picture of native life, 
a panorama to enjoy for ever. In such a 
scene of spontaneous pleasure one comes in 
touch with real Japan. It is the true life of 
the people, with nothing artificial made up 
for the tourist. 

Every one who could lingered near the 
capital, till the time for the great garden- 
party of the emperor, which is the society 
ambition of the tourist. His Highness waited 
for the fairest bloom of his double cherry 

28 



In the Heart of Japan 

blossoms, and the date was vague, until just 
before the event, which occurred April 17th. 

From Yokohama to Kioto by Boat 

There were other regions glowing with 
beauty, and there were weird celebrations in 
honour of the national flower at the ancient 
capital of Kioto, and on the day following the 
emperor's party we started for the distant city. 
Sheets of rain pattered on the rikshas as we 
were whirled toward the wharf, but they 
benignly ceased just long enough to transfer 
us in a sampan, with the canvas trunk, to the 
big boat in the bay. There were few com- 
panions on the old Peking which bore us 
down to Kobe, and the boat has since been 
beached as useless. We lay helpless through 
a tiresome day, and the lady who got up feel- 
ing " fine as a fiddle " soon succumbed to the 
rough passage, and tumbled into her bunk 
feeling anything but fine. The old English 
lady with high collar, who played the role of 
stewardess, said " my dear " through all the 
trip, and a bright Sunday morning saw us 
in the harbour of Kobe, where I began a 
search for the trunk, which seemed irrevo- 
cably lost. The space which held it the night 

29 



A JVoman Alone 

we embarked was void of baggage, and, after 
long talk and many signs, it was dragged 
from an empty cabin, like a guilty stowaway, 
and we made a march for the station, to book 
for old Kioto, where the wonderful Miyako 
Odori was running a merry month of cherry 
dances, to the joy of the native and the won- 
der of the foreigner. 

A Ceremonious Tea-party 

The tea ceremony preceded the dance, and 
we waited in the anteroom, shod in moccasins 
and armed with wooden tickets. The usher 
waved us to the inner shrine, where low stools 
and lacquer tables lined the walls, and the 
guests in solemn silence awaited develop- 
ments. 

Mincing, but quiet and dignified, five wee 
fairies toddled in, each bringing a much- 
flowered earthen saucer and a pasty ball 
stabbed with a skewer. She dropped her 
offering before a guest, bent herself double 
in salute, and tottered away. Back and forth 
they flitted, like rainbows running across the 
carpet, till all were served. Each maid was 
in gala gown, and topped by a chignon of 
flowers. They relaxed not a muscle, gave no 

30 



In the Heart of Japan 

side glance to the stranger, but lived up to the 
important dignity of their mission. These 
children of eight years showed the discipline 
of the tried soldier, and were far more cor- 
rect than the guests. They disappeared, and 
all the foreigners looked fearfully at the 
snowballs before them. 

One green and hungry creature tried to 
sample the frosting. She was promptly 
thumped and warned by a stage whisper, 
" Use your eyes. They only look at it." Peo- 
ple smoked freely, and knocked the ashes 
into little trays on the table. One gentleman 
revealed the mystery of the bamboo tube, 
which had so bothered me. He coughed seri- 
ously, raised the tube, and replaced it on the 
stand. So the tubes were cuspidors within 
arm^s reach. It does not sound pretty for a 
tea-party, but the tubes answered a human 
need, and the fleckless floor was never sullied 
by a careless aim at a distant spittoon. There 
never was a native so debased that he spat 
on the spotless matting. 

All eyes were on the door as the queen of 
night stood on the threshold, wearing long 
black robes, with suggestion of colour at neck 
and arms. She made a low salutation, and 
moved with measured grace to her table 

31 



A Woman Alone 

arrayed with a caldron and exquisite dishes. 
She showed her elegant fingers to advantage 
as she reached for her utensils with dexterous 
precision, and drew them to her at the angle 
demanded by the code of tea etiquette ar- 
ranged by Hideyoshi and his nobles centuries 
before. From her obi she drew a dainty silk 
cloth, and folded it with care, ere she dusted 
off each dish. Her dignity was courtly; she 
seemed utterly oblivious of everything but 
that elegant ceremony. With a long ladle she 
poured hot water, and with a bamboo wisp 
stirred the beverage. A rainbow doll beside 
her carried the bowl of powdered liquid to 
the nearest guest, and the queen backed, bow- 
ing, from the room to replenish her teapot. 
Other rainbows glided in with steaming 
bowls, and gathered up the tickets, amid many 
salaams. The queen returned and made an- 
other bowl, which came to me, in line of pro- 
cession. Then the statuesque lady waited, 
while the natives lapped and sucked, swung 
their bowls and caught the last leaf, and it 
sounded as if a tidal wave were sweeping 
away the bowls and the drinkers. Such pomp 
and ceremony over the choky stuff, which 
seemed to my uncultivated taste a fit penalty 
for murderers, was a strain on the nerves, and 

32 



In the Heart of Japan 

I nearly upset the tea-party descended from 
Hideyoshi by casting a merry smile and a 
wicked wink at the little waiting-maid, who 
fell from dignity into a semi-smothered and 
explosive snicker, while the neighbours help- 
lessly stared her out of countenance. She 
regained her stoicism, and crept up to my 
side to innocently ask, ''More tea?" My 
negative was positive, and she said a kindly 
" Thank you," as she grabbed the bowl and 
tottered away. In the oppressive silence 
which followed no one moved, till the gra- 
cious queen of the occasion rose and left the 
room, with stately slides and graceful bows. 
Then every native drew forth a handkerchief, 
and wrapped up the saucers and the frosted 
cake. Like souvenir fiends we, too, pocketed 
our trophies, and then repaired to the theatre. 

The Theatre in Cherry-blossom Season 

A rear gallery was reserved for foreigners, 
while the natives squatted on their mats on 
the floor of the house. The stage ran around 
the sides and front. A whine, a wail, which 
rose to a whoop, broke through the walls as 
the curtain lifted and showed rows of kneel- 
ing girls, robed in heliotrope and violet. 

33 



A Woman Alone 

Pound, pound, thump, thump, they beat the 
drum-heads, jerking back, with a quick, 
right-angled movement holding one stick 
straight in air, and dropping the other like 
a pile-driver. They were stiff and angular 
as puppets pulled by strings. Some held, 
against their faces, drums which looked like 
hour-glasses, and these the little ladies 
spanked with methodical rhythm. A Thomas 
concert on the back fence is the only simile 
for the dreadful tones produced, screaming 
in high falsetto and then chasing down to a 
subterranean note, till we shuddered to think 
of the suffering of the performers. " Wiauh- 
auu-auu, wiau-au-u au-u-u!" they shrieked 
and moaned, till we longed for their trials to 
end. What at first was funny became sad 
and mournful. Tragically they banged on 
the right, and dramatically they responded 
from the left wing. Pathetic notes in a nasal 
twang accompanied the picking and scraping 
of the strings, which sounded through three 
sad tones, till one felt that '' the melancholy 
days have come." Demon was pitted against 
demon in a sad, mad travesty of music. 

Geishas advanced to the front, gesturing 
with palm fans, and attitudinizing to every 
fantastic pose. They ran away, to reappear 

34 




o 

< 

w 

en 

O 

en 
O 
►J 






In the Heart of Japan 

with folded fans, which they shook loose 
and raised and lowered over their heads and 
beside them. Again they ran off, while the 
scenes were shifted. There was no attempt 
to conceal the changes. Coolies, like artless 
children, placed cascades and castles before 
the audience. They arranged glittering pal- 
aces, and rippling waters fell through the 
forest's shade. The airy and fantastic vision 
compensated for the agony which our ears 
had endured. 

The little maids returned with scrolls. 
They advanced and retreated till they met a 
vapoury line, and pinned their papers in the 
air. It reminded one of Orlando as he 
pinned sonnets to the trees. There the mis- 
sives fluttered and unrolled, in a vision of 
pretty colour and form, fantastic valentines, 
caught in mid-air. Then the scene changed 
to a cherry-blossom realm. Clouds of colour 
drooped from above. The midgets reentered 
waving and fluttering branches of pink and 
white, and a halo of soft light floated above 
them. We wondered not that the artistic 
people loved their cherry blossoms, that they 
revelled in the dreamy beauty, and through 
twenty-eight nights of the month of April 
squatted content in the presence of the cherry 

35 



A Woman Alone 

dances. In five nightly performances of forty 
happy minutes each the little maids created 
winsome fairy-land, and held the people 
under magic spell; and, for the stranger, 
the beating of tom-toms, the spanking of 
drum-heads, the sad caterwaul, and the fog- 
horn note were forgotten in the beauteous 
vision of sifting petals. 

Public Procession of Prostitutes 

Kioto alone retains a strange remnant of 
the barbarism formerly practised, but now 
abolished, throughout all the other cities, and 
tourists from all quarters planned attendance 
at the annual procession of April 21st. It is 
a date to be marked and remembered if the 
traveller would see the most unique pageant 
in the land, but it is not a sight for the prude, 
and the ordinary Christian throws away scru- 
ples and principles in a measure when he 
lends his countenance to the strange, sad 
spectacle. Conventional folks would prefer 
to be masked, and one who understands the 
v/herefore of the scene would not care to be 
recognized by casual acquaintances. Yet 
everybody came, some innocently, and others 
knowingly, for the best of people do throw 

36 



In the Heart of Japan 

away conventionality when they try to be in- 
telligent travellers. One loses in knowledge 
who clings too closely to old rituals in a for- 
eign land. 

The eventful day dawned in a setting of 
gray. If the pent-up torrents fell, woe betide 
the tourists' snap-shot^ and the gowns of the 
marching girls. No one was sure of the 
hour, and the uncertain authorities placed it 
between two and four. It was risky to put 
trust in Oriental figures, and it would be 
maddening to miss what one had come so 
far to see. 

At one P. M. we left the hotel for an end- 
less ride, beside the river, along the canal, 
through alleys, and among shanties winding 
out on to a country road fringed with rice 
paddies and mustard fields. At the narrow 
gate of the enclosure the multitudes bristled, 
and left not a free inch. I squirmed like an 
eel through the battling throngs, and pushed 
my way up the narrow lane, though coolies 
and policemen hit me in the ribs as I ad- 
vanced. It was a national crush. Homes and 
tea-houses were open to friends and patrons, 
railed-off squares were dense with humanity, 
and every balcony had its crowds. For a 
quarter of a mile we searched up the narrow 

37 



A IVoman Alone 

pass for the enclosure of the Kioto House. 
" Here, lady, this way," said a kindly voice 
in recognition of a patron, and his flag waved 
toward me. I jumped the rail and settled in 
a front seat. 

Two hours we studied the va-et-vient of 
the natives. Mothers nursed their babies, 
who turned from the breast to coo with con- 
tent at the crowds. A careless coolie dropped 
a large part of his trousers, and calmly 
stooped to gather up his sash, and re-cover 
his tawny skin. Neither he nor his friends 
felt disturbed. At home that little incident 
would have been embarrassing, only it could 
not occur. Nothing more natural in Japan 
than that a man might drop some of his rai- 
ment, which he would regard as a bother, 
anyway. 

Only once did I notice a shock. The girl 
at my side had not taken in the situation, nor 
caught the meaning of the term Yoshiwara, 
and she innocently exclaimed : " It is all 
very queer for a religious ceremony. Why 
don't the priests appear? " 

" Priests!" I gasped. "There is little use 
for them. This is not a temple service, and 
there is not much room for religion in the 



38 



In the Heart of Japan 

annual parade of the bad girls of the 
brothel." 

Injured Innocence subsided, while native 
and foreigner jostled together in a scramble 
for a place. Coolies on the roof-tops cracked 
their witticisms, which the crowd applauded. 
At last they were coming. People turned 
their eyes and craned their necks toward the 
entrance. Bustling policemen made a nerv- 
ous attempt to clear the way. The crowd 
was hushed. On they came, slowly, a dozen 
geishas, in scarlet, tugging at the cordon of 
red and white attached to the fanciful flower 
chariot. Its tinsel work trembled, and its 
slender branches quivered as if they would 
shake their soft petals on the crowds. The 
flowers were only pretty papers, with the 
appearance of a moving garden. The natives 
live among flowers and are easy imitators of 
the pretty blossoms which they have always 
cultivated. 

The "Leader of Sin and Her Gay Retinue 

The artificial car was the prelude of the 
realism to follow. It was succeeded by two 
mites, possibly of six years, wearing gay ki- 
monos and glossy black chignons, done like 

39 



A Woman Alone 

butterfly's wings. Their skin was laid with 
paste and paint, which proclaimed how false 
were their lives. Slowly they paced before 
their mistress, lifting high their ungainly 
clogs. Behind came the Queen of Sin, 
shameless leader of infamy in the big city. 
She was a bundle of emblazoned iniquity, 
paraded through the streets as a glorified 
advertisement of human degradation. 

The whole procedure was a pitiful com- 
mentary on the disgusting depravity of man- 
kind. The twentieth century had dawned 
since the Son of God had rebuked the woman 
of licentious life; yet, piled upon this pin- 
nacle of Christian civilization, in an age 
which vaunts its purity of thought and holi- 
ness of purpose, a nation high in progress 
and in respectability produced this public 
spectacle, the triumph of the Scarlet Woman, 
not as a warning, a horror, and a moral les- 
son, but as an iniquitous triumph, the em- 
bodiment of vice rampant in the modern 
world, decked in costly clothing, dazzling 
with gorgeous finery which few could afford, 
which only the wicked would wear, a glow- 
ing boast of the traffic in human life, a sensu- 
ous appeal to every sensual instinct in the 
range of human passions, an unblushing, 

40 



In the Heart of Japan 

walking advertisement of the prostitutes' 
quarter! 

Christian types from every civilized na- 
tion were interested spectators. By what mo- 
tive they were drawn, only each heart could 
answer, but it would be safe to say that nine, 
if not ten, in every ten were drawn by mere 
curiosity. We could not honestly attach any 
high motive to our presence at a scene so 
degrading, and the fact of our presence was 
a travesty on our boasted purity. We had 
come from all the peoples who send their 
teachers and their preachers to reform the 
heathen world; we had paid high and had 
journeyed fast and far; we had endured dis- 
comfort and fatigue to partake of this mon- 
strous scene of hardened sin. I wondered 
what thoughts animated the audience as they 
watched the gaudy sirens. Was there a thrill 
of pity for the creatures plastered thick in 
immoral mud, girls once innocent, who now 
paraded their vileness? Was there a feeling 
akin to pity in any human heart of the many 
who countenanced the sin by their presence? 
Did the watching Christians give much 
thought to the real and terrible meaning of 
the passing pageant? From my own sense of 



41 



A IVoman Alone 

shame and sinking of heart, I longed to feel 
the pulse of the crowd. 

Whatever thought dominated, the visitors 
sat in speechless, almost breathless, wonder 
before the queer designs and radiant colours 
of these strange costumes. I searched the 
face of the leader among the courtesans, 
chosen as the first exemplar of her trade. 
She was without expression, like a stone 
image propelled by a machine. If she 
gloated in her questionable honour, if she 
delighted in her publicity, who could tell? 
It is not given nor permitted to the Japanese 
to wear the heart upon the sleeve, and if that 
little skull held any thought, it was well hid- 
den from the curious world; the Japanese 
are skilled in reserve. Her face was plas- 
tered in white lead, which gave her the pallor 
of a spectre. Her lower lip was dyed deep 
carmine, and her upper lip shaded from 
brown to black. Her raven hair, shiny with 
oil, and drawn high on the Japanese cushion, 
was wound with bright coils of wool, inlaid 
with beads. Strings of coral dangled about, 
and darts of bone and horn formed a halo 
to the pallid face. She wore a tiara of silver 
tinsel, from which bobbed a garden of arti- 
ficial flowers. The decorations were gaudy, 

42 



In the Heart of Japan 

but tawdry and cheap. Many layers of 
bright lining peeped up from the open neck. 
At equal spaces in the back the brown skin 
showed in precise triangles where the white 
paint was not applied, and the effect was 
like a very regular picket fence. The accu- 
racy of the triangles is a point of high eti- 
quette among the girls. She carried her 
hands on her hips, and her elbows spread 
like wings beneath the robes, supporting the 
ponderous garments which fell in heavy folds 
to her feet. The brilliant colouring and the 
groundwork of embroidery made a mystery 
of beauty. Her clogs were six inches high, 
deeply notched, and her step was the climax 
of stage etiquette. She placed one foot for- 
ward, and turned it in around the other, stood 
poised, turned this front foot out, and re- 
peated the laborious step with the other foot. 
She marched with difficulty, holding the 
heavy robes which fell persistently about her 
feet, which were natural and beautiful. A 
people who have never been shod in leather 
are not martyrs to corns and bunions, and her 
foot was a shapely type, not compressed, but 
spread as nature intended, and the fat, pink 
toes were tipped by pretty nails. She passed 
like a moving statue, bedecked in gay colour. 

43 



A Woman Alone 

She seemed totally unfeeling. Not a side 
glance from the tail of her eye did she give 
to the thousands lined up to stare her out of 
countenance. 

Near her walked her ahmah, a womanly 
attendant in dark robes, whose duty it was 
to foresee the girl's needs. Behind came her 
coolie, dressed in flowing green, embroidered 
with the crest of her house, a pretty clover 
leaf. Above the girl'^ head he carried a huge 
umbrella of oiled paper and bamboo. 

For an instant she halted and trembled, 
and we wondered if she would fall from her 
stilted clogs. Was the honour of heading 
the procession overpowering her? Had she 
a fear that she would not do credit to her 
calling? Was she stage-struck before the 
great throngs? Was she faint with the 
weight of her robes? Did a latent sense of 
shame shake the little body? Certainly this 
girl of the public, daubed with paint, and 
plastered with paste and with crime so deep 
that one questioned if she still had soul or 
sense, trembled on her pedestal of shame. 
Drops of sweat oozed through the whitewash, 
and trickled in streamlets toward the exact 
brown triangles. With pats of her silk ker- 
chief, the ahmah dried the slimy spots. Care- 

44 



In the Heart of Japan 

fully she placed a hairpin and arranged the 
heavy folds that fell about the woman's feet. 
The wadded robe was awkward, and per- 
versely swung about the ankles ; but, picking 
up her garments and taking courage afresh, 
the girl passed on. 

A Sad Object-lesson 

Our eyes turned to the next vanguard of 
midgets and to their gay mistress. Sympathy 
was strong for these little ones apprenticed 
to crime and nurtured in the dens of sin. 
They were fated children, doomed to a life 
which was not their choice. They were early 
candidates for future shame. 

Every beautiful shade of colour passed in 
the gay gowns. Deep carmine, royal purple, 
sky-blue, Nile-green, scarlet, heliotrope, like 
waves of light, were woven in marvellous 
designs, shot with gold thread, and glittering 
with fanciful effects. A huge peacock spread 
his proud wings in rich embroidery. The 
lotus, the iris, and the cherry loomed in a 
blaze of beauty on the gowns. The stork 
stood tall among the reeds. Just an hour and 
five minutes were consumed in the passing 
of the glittering pageant, which contained 

45 



A Woman Alone 

only ten girls and their personnel. Closely 
I looked for the hidden history in the face 
of each courtesan. I never saw pleasure, not 
a vestige of joy. If the face were not a blank, 
it stood for stony indifference, as if the girl 
were driven blindly on through empty space. 
Sometimes there were pathos and sadness, a 
hunger and longing in the eyes which might 
never again be lighted by hope. Occasionally 
the girl spoke briefly to her ahmah, but 
always with a quiet dignity. Not once did 
a girl show consciousness of the staring 
crowds. 

" They are prostitutes, but very great 
ladies, so grand that they often keep their 
noblest patron waiting, and will not see him 
till it suits their pleasure," said a guide. The 
remark was a key to the situation in Japan. 
The lost girl, isolated, and set apart in her 
peculiar quarter, yet held mastery among her 
guests. She was sure of patronage. The 
highest and the noblest would bid for her, 
and, while she held her popular rank, she 
could indulge her petty whims and fancies, 
and the nobles themselves must do her bid- 
ding. 

If the reckless foreigner was not awed and 
subdued by the thrilling object-lesson, at least 

46 



In the Heart of Japan 

he made his comments in hushed voice. 
Among the visitors silence seemed golden, 
and speech was the tinkling brass that jarred. 
We had much to fill the thought. The Japa- 
nese took it lightly. They were used to it, 
and it meant a gala-day, one more picnic 
added to their outings, which they would 
not have missed for anything. Babies in gay 
kimonos cooed and crowed in delight, and 
reached their fat hands for the passing gew- 
gaws. Grown-ups chattered in their heed- 
less way, happy as if watching a circus. 
Rough coolies on the roof-tops shouted deri- 
sive insults and were loudly applauded. Re- 
gardless of praise or censure, the living 
images glided on, till the last was a bright 
mass of colour and gold embroidery in the 
distance. Mothers strapped their babies on 
their backs, and I wondered if many of those 
laughing little ones were destined to a sim- 
ilar fate. Coolies slid from the roofs. As 
if stunned by a too bright light, or by a blow 
in the conscience, we pulled ourselves to- 
gether. To us the spectacle seemed sad and 
revolting; we knew that Mephisto had 
tempted Faust with the houris of hell. 



47 



A Woman Alone 



CHAPTER III 

SIGHTSEEING 
A Typical Temple 

We alighted at the leafy station in the hills, 
and were hailed with the cry of " Riksha, 
riksha," by the little men in dish-pan hats. 
We knew what we wanted, and when we had 
extracted from their light vocabulary the 
words, " Temple bell, pine-tree, boat," we 
hoped nothing further from their scanty Eng- 
lish so far inland, and we settled down for 
a trundle through a labyrinth of lanes lined 
with stalls of china Buddhas, and past sheds 
where tea and sake tempted the traveller. 

I was temple-tired, for often had I passed 
through that red and black sign of Shinto 
faith, the picturesque torii, which stands be- 
fore the temple where natives drink from the 
holy well, and toss a penny through the grate, 
as they pull the bell-rope and clap their 

48 



In the Heart of Japan 

hands to call the god's attention to the gift, 
as they mumble the prayer, " Amida-Buddha, 
Amida-Buddha." Behind the lattice sits 
great Buddha, covered with spit-balls, which 
are the prayers of the faithful, and have been 
answered if the little wads have stuck to the 
god. He is often so covered with the pellets 
that he looks like a modern Job, bursting 
with boils. 

Traditions of a Temple Bell 

Beneath a tiresome flight of steps, the view 
stretched out to thatched roofs wrapped in 
purple and white wistaria, and flashes of 
colour lay beside the pearly line of road 
which ran beside the blue lake, whose deep 
green hills rose like protecting giants by the 
edge. Descending to the sombre forest, by 
paths of velvet moss, we sought the monas- 
tery bell in the thicket. Generally the 
tongueless temple bell has its separate home, 
and stands unmoved till it resounds to the 
push of the big battering ram which hangs 
at its side, as the devotee offers up his prayer. 
Not to pray or to push the beam had we 
rolled through the forest, but to hunt the tra- 
dition of the hillside, where famous Benkei, 

49 



A Woman Alone 

bold bell robber and sacrilegious kidnapper, 
had performed his daring deed. He was a 
wicked giant of the twelfth century, eight 
feet tall, with the strength of a hundred men. 
While trying to kill a worthy hero, he found 
that his would-be victim was an abler fencer 
than himself, and, from admiration for supe- 
rior power, he became the hero's devoted 
henchman. Benkei settled on the schoolboy 
trick of depriving the old monks of their 
monastery bell, so he carried it to the moun- 
tain's top, and beat a hideous racket all the 
night. The despairing priests pleaded for 
their treasure, and he promised to surrender 
the bell if they would make him all the bean 
porridge he could eat. So they filled him a 
soup tureen five feet in diameter. Tragic 
pictures show Benkei in every stage of his 
crime, and sake cups are sold in triplets to 
impress his infamy, showing him scrambling 
wildly up the mountain bearing the big bell, 
sitting on the height banging the tom-toms, 
and again delighting in his big porringer. 

Another fable claims that the old bell was 
stolen by the monks of a neighbouring mon- 
astery, but to them it gave only the pleading 
wail, " I want to go back to Miidera," and 
in wrath and fear the holy thieves flung it 

50 



In the Heart of Japan 

down the slopes, as if it were a thing unclean. 
We may believe any hard history of a bell 
which is so full of seams and scars. 

An Aged Fine-tree 

From woodland we rolled to the highway, 
flanked by sparkling waters, and by gardens 
green with rice and barley, golden with mus- 
tard, and tangled with red lupin. It was the 
wheelman's paradise, with a road that 
stretched like a silvery ribbon, fringed by 
dark violets, where happy snakes blinked 
dreamily in graceful coils, or scampered in 
the crannies of a bridge. 

" The pine-tree, the pine-tree, that is the 
sacred pine," we shouted, for its name and 
fame are wide in the land, as its size and 
age are great. Long ago it ceased to have 
a birthday, but probably for more than a 
thousand years its green branches have waved 
in the air. In the sands of a plain beside the 
lake it stands propped with tender care, loved 
and worshipped throughout the empire. 
Stout beams support its aged limbs, and 
stone columns prop its bending branches. 
Decaying spots are filled with cement, and a 
tiny roof forms a protecting watershed to 

51 



A Woman Alone 

shield the top from raging storms. The vet- 
eran tree is a holy treasure of Japan, and 
before it is a Shinto shrine, where the pil- 
grim prays. Whoever doffs the hat to age 
may stand in reverence before this majestic 
monarch of the plains, who has reared his 
head so long in defiance of the ravages of 
weather and the withering blight of time. 
Frail man shrivels up before such endurance. 
The majestic pine has seen the centuries come 
and go, has witnessed the rise and fall of 
dynasties, the overthrow of governments, the 
fluctuations of thought, the advance of civi- 
lization, the changes of religion, the fate of 
war, the destruction of peoples. Amid all the 
strife the noble tree has quietly, steadily, 
peacefully grown. Its spreading branches, 
two hundred and eighty feet in width, tell 
the lesson of patient, persistent purpose, calm 
and unmoved amid tempests. Power in re- 
pose is the suggestive hint to its admirers. 

The guardian of the tea-house spread mat- 
tings on the little table, and prepared to serve 
the guests. Our hotel luncheon was most 
generous, and I carried a goodly portion to 
the rikmen in their booth. They returned 
abundant thanks, and a few moments later 
gave us a desperate scare, as they came wind- 

52 



In the Heart of Japan 

ing through the bushes. Little does the 
abrupt and hurried West comprehend the 
polite and gentle East, which is never too 
rushed for an overflow of good manners. 
Often are we overwhelmed and humiliated 
by the kindly courtesy of the Orient. Too 
often we are brutally suspicious and cruelly 
distrustful, when the intent of the native is 
all goodness. Instantly, as we saw the dish- 
pan Jehus coming, we of little faith were on 
the defensive. 

" We are here to stay a bit, and to enjoy 
life. Those base men need not think they 
can trundle us back this minute," said my 
chum. 

" Alas for the rarity 

Of Christian charity 

Under the sun ! " 

No such unworthy thought as trundling 
back had percolated their tiny brains. With 
their dish-pans in their hands, they were 
smiling blandly, bowing low and scraping, 
as they said a friendly " Thank you " for 
the lunch devoured, while we blushed to 
think we knew so little of table etiquette that 
we did not even recognize it when we saw 
it coming toward us. The traveller might 
everywhere save himself '' heap-lots " worry, 

53 



A Woman Alone 

if he did not anticipate the evil which will 
never come his way. 

The hake Biwa Canal 

One commencement day, a college graduate 
of Tokio set all other graduates a worthy 
example, as he refused to sweep the fields of 
oratory with the usual flowery platitudes, and 
dealt with matters practical, that his erudi- 
tion might be a blessing to his land. His 
essay, for the College of Engineering, gave 
birth to the Lake Biwa Canal, opened in 
1890, as an invaluable highway for men and 
matter. The authorities saw the worth of 
his idea, and appointed the essayist to exe- 
cute the scheme. The engineer's right arm 
became paralyzed while drawing his plans, 
and he finished them with the left hand. It 
was a gigantic feat to carry the water up to 
Kioto by a canal seven miles long, which 
included three tunnels of a total length of 
two and a half miles through the very heart 
of the mountain. 

The ticket man was determined to send 
us off in a private boat, perhaps thinking we 
might not be pleasing to his countrymen, but 
we were bent on native ways, and paid sixteen 

54 



In the Heart of Japan 

sen, eight cents each, for a place on the floor 
of the clumsy scow. This meant travelling 
first-class, and the natives remonstrated wildly 
when we made a mistaken tumble into their 
second-class compartment. Being travelling 
aristocrats, we must labour to roll over the 
gunwale, at the prow, and monopolize our 
own side. They would have nought to do 
with such high-priced people. The roof was 
removed to give us room to sit up, and the 
natives prepared to enjoy us, as they squatted 
close, giggled and grinned, eyed us tenderly, 
and remarked our every move. With a 
rhythmical thud of the oar, we were sculled 
up-stream, and daylight disappeared as we 
slipped into the tunnel. A single lantern in 
the centre of the boat made the near dark- 
ness visible. The long passage was of Egyp- 
tian blackness, and I peered ahead for any 
glimmer which might relieve the gloom. A 
single star gleamed out in the distance. It 
grew brighter, larger, nearer. Was it day- 
light? Were we coming to free air and open 
sky beyond the weighty brick which walled 
us in beneath strong hills? There came a 
rush of waters and a sound of turning wheels. 
A dark object shot past, and the fleeting 
spark revealed a nude man pacing the boat, 

55 



A Woman Alone 

as he pulled the cable which drew it down 
the incline, in a revolving cradle. The mid- 
night pall settled down again, and we floated 
on, in the mystery of darkness. The boat- 
man's thud at the stern was the only sound 
on the still waters. 

The nervous woman or the tactless man 
would be out of place in the dark tunnel, for 
it is very gruesome. The chum, prone on 
the floor at my side, was pale and restless, 
as we swung into the sunshine. 

"Are you sick?" she feebly gasped. 

" Sick in a cradle, the water is a sheet of 
glass! " I said, and she answered mildly, " It 
is many a year since my cradle days, but 
this thud strikes terror to my head and stom- 
ach and racks every nerve in my body." 

Indeed it was a test, and the second-class 
people were moaning and groaning, leaning 
over the gunwale and offering up their 
agony. 

Shooting the Rapids at Arashiyama 

Old Kioto and its numberless suburbs are 
a ravishing feast for the rover, and one 
guards well his precious time. We had been 
told that " the trip to the Rapids is a wicked 

56 



In the Heart of Japan 

waste of precious Kioto time." Much is 
to be forgiven, if this rash statement should 
deprive a tourist of one of the fairest out- 
ings in the realm. Other adventurers had 
said, '' Do not fail to take it. The scenery 
repays by its charm, even if the season be dry, 
and the Rapids tame." Another's experience 
is never a sure test, as it is the personal fac- 
tor which must solve every problem. 

I was fortunate to make the shoot in time 
of heavy freshet. " We have had no tele- 
gram to warn us, so we know you can get 
through, but the waters will be very high 
and dangerous, it will cost you more, and, 
if you have the time to wait, you would 
better delay a day," was the advice which 
decided us to ^' stand not on the order of 
our going, but go at once!' The following 
day, the mad waters had abated two feet, and 
the rousing sport that goes with danger was 
all lost. 

A railway, cutting its course through 
mountain gorges, carried us to the head 
waters. Naturally the picked men would 
be in the first boats, and, plunging from 
car into riksha, we were rattled over the 
rocky road to the wharf, where we suc- 
cumbed to the ways of the Orient and dick- 

57 



A Woman Alone 

ered and chaffered in long-drawn Japanese 
style. Extra men, and rising waters, put a 
higher price on the boats, and the trip had 
jumped three yen in value, but who would 
begrudge the leap in frenzied finance with 
the promise of sport ahead? For eight yen, 
fifty, we received a streaky document, black- 
ened from the ink-pot of a priestly manager. 
We gawkily dragged our skirts over the 
stockade of the clumsy flat scow. They gave 
us chairs and mattings to protect against 
splashes over the gunwale. Seven sturdy 
natives leaped aboard, and our quartette was 
off, the first of the fleet, to try its fate in 
the whirling stream. For a mad hour we 
were tossed by the torrent, tearing on in 
our course which was bounded by rocks that 
formed, a channel for the centre. Bright 
sun and cloudless sky made an ideal day for 
a country outing. Fluttering birds sang a 
pean of triumph to the storm that was past. 
Coppery maples and flowering azaleas 
blazed in beauty, and clouds of cherry blos- 
soms drifted off on the breeze. Bits of 
Norway came in view, as we dashed past 
a forest of towering pine. It was a mad 
race with the waters. 
The trip began with the pretty and the 

58 



In the Heart of Japan 

picturesque, and suggested passive anecdote. 
The beefy Australian, with a bushwhacker's 
accent, tenderly told us the cause of the 
American Revolution. " The colonies re- 
fused to send England troops, to aid her 
in a foreign war, and so the motherland 
resolved to subdue the naughty children." 
The speaker was a " formless fairy," but the 
yarn was a bit too gigantic for modern his- 
tory. 

" Guess you have confused it with the 
war in Africa. The Boer war was so long- 
drawn out that you thought it was the same 
as the American Revolution," said a trav- 
eller. 

A sweet little English girl saw that there 
was a misunderstanding of history, and 
meekly suggested, " There was something 
about stamps, too, which caused some of the 
trouble." 

" Is that so, something about stamps, to 
cause a revolution? Do you mean a stam- 
pede of the people, or simple postage stamps? 
Did the rage for collecting exist in those 
days?" asked the historian. 

Scenic delights caused a lull in statistics, 
till the bushwhacker remarked that " Amer- 



59 



A IVoman Alone 

icans were wont to go over Niagara Falls 
in tubs! " 

The fat lady from the West here lost her 
balance, but remarked, " Australia is a bit 
off the civilized route, if such fairy-tales 
are credited by its countrymen." 

As we slipped into a foaming maelstrom, 
and eddied and whirled among towering 
rocks, all sparring ceased, and the fat lady's 
eyes dropped out on her face and her wide 
mouth stretched as if to take in a tidal wave. 
Three men at the prow tugged mightily at 
the oars, pulling themselves up on the cross- 
beams and straining at the oarlocks. Two 
men poled us off, as we swirled in the seeth- 
ing caldron. Men in the stern drove their 
bamboo rods against the huge boulders. A 
sharp command, a quick retort, the speedy 
stroke, the strained eye, proved the desper- 
ate effort of the men to keep us from the 
whirling rapids. Bang! broke the waves, 
and the scow swung around to a monster rock, 
and took a shipload of water. Swamping 
or splitting would soon end our troubles in 
the wild stream. There would be no reck- 
oning of results by him who was thrown to 
the mercies of the torrent and banged on the 
crags below. Mattings were useless against 

60 



In the Heart of Japan 

beetling waves which drenched us with their 
spray. We were the tossed-about toy of Na- 
ture. She would bufifet us well, for daring 
her frenzied mood. 

But the oarsmen were crafty, and out of 
the wild abyss we steered, to catch breath 
for a few peaceful seconds, while a native 
swabbed the boat, and we gloried in the dis- 
tant hills. Then we leaped into another 
wild chute of seething water, and renewed 
the fight with the breakers, drifting to the 
jagged rocks, and whirling in the dizzying 
rapids. We swung through alive, while the 
shapeless Australian and the obese West- 
erner, in a friendship born of the nearness 
to tragic death, clung to each other in mute 
despair. Again, they swung apart, in eager 
effort to ballast the boat. It was an hour of 
sensations and thrills, filled with experiences 
which made time seem eternity. Then we 
moored at the tea-house, picturesquely set 
among flowers and foliage, which border 
the wild river. 

The Wonderful Wrestlers of Japan 

In the days of Bible story came the 
throngs to the river to be baptized. To-day, 

6i 



A Woman Alone 

Kioto's river-bed is the wrestler's play- 
ground. A thousand natives squatted in the 
large circle of the thatched tent, which was 
percolated by a glimmer of sunlight. For- 
eigners paid extra for uncomfortable chairs, 
on an inclined plane, a concession to civili- 
zation which sent the victim sliding at the 
most thrilling moment. Wrestlers who had 
won fame and glory before admiring throngs 
in the winter bouts at Tokio, came for the 
May season at Kioto, when the tournament 
was held by the Athletic Association, whose 
colours, a royal purple with white crest, 
draped the central stand. In two opposite 
corners sat the staid judges, ancient worthies, 
now passe in the art, who looked coldly on 
the young aspirants, and longed to give the 
youngsters many a point, had they not been 
cruelly shelved from the ring. Outside the 
other corners were large tubs of water, with 
long wooden dippers, where adversaries re- 
freshed themselves before the fight. Pack- 
ages of tissue-paper, hanging above, served 
as handkerchiefs or towels. 

With a sepulchral wail, and the air of an 
undertaker at a funeral, the ringmaster 
called the opponents. In dreary monotone 
he applauded their pugilistic powers, and 

62 




A MOST DISTINGUISHED WRESTLER OF JAPAN 



In the Heart of Japan 

from either side sprang a giant, naked, ex- 
cept for a purple loin cloth and a fringe of 
stiff, silk spikes, which bristled like quills 
when the battle raged. His hair, gathered 
to a war-lock at the top, was tied with a 
cord above which it fluttered an inch, like 
the ruffled feathers of a fighting cock. 

On the stage, each antagonist planted his 
hands firmly on his knees, stretched to a 
base like the Colossus of Rhodes, lifted in 
turn each leg to the highest pitch, and 
slammed it down with a thud. The extraor- 
dinary gesture seemed a weighty threat. 
Then the men faced each other, squatting 
on their heels, and glowering into each 
other's eyes, like a couple of game roosters. 
After intense seconds of bated breath and 
desperate scowls, one flew at the other in 
fury, and, if the other was in no mood for 
war, the battle was off, and they retired to 
a corner to spit and drink, to blow the nose 
and mop themselves down with tissue-paper. 

Such was the farcical prelude of the play. 
Americans would have cried " Go ahead. 
No muffing. Play ball." But Japanese life 
is not strenuous, and the patient people had 
time and to spare, and all this was stage 
etiquette, which added to the dignity. Fi- 

63 



A Woman Alone 

nally the contestants made a grab, and 
wheeled about in frenzy. A thump in the 
body and a slap in the face seemed the 
proper antic, and a desperate dig for the 
line of fringe despoiled a man of his spikes. 
If the breech-cloth itself were dislodged, 
there was a stay of proceedings till the man 
was properly tied up. As the heroes buf- 
feted and clinched, the ringman capered 
about like a maniac, giving sharp, staccato 
notes on two keys, which meant, '' Take care, 
take care, take care," that they should not 
step out of the ring. The ringman had no 
fancy that a wrestler should collapse on his 
hands, and he would call a draw at the most 
exciting point in the battle, if the combat- 
ants seemed winded. To throw the opponent, 
or push him from the ring, was each man's 
aim, and in wild moments the two stood 
clinched in fierce struggle, and neither 
gained an inch. Their brawny backs, raised 
in knots of muscle, looked like the roots of 
gnarled oaks. There were moments of tre- 
mendous pose, when the two giants clung 
moveless, with held breath, neither giving 
up his grip nor being able to dislodge his 
man. Then, by a quick and nimble trick, 
a victim would go spinning over the line, 

64 




THE PRELUDE TO A WRESTLING BOUT 



In the Heart of Japan 

or take a tumble into the audience. They 
were good-natured in defeat and modest in 
victory, as they strode down the aisles to 
their dens, while once more the manager 
waved his wand, and wailed the triumph 
of the coming heroes. 

During four captivating hours we watched 
these giants of Japan. The lucky rikmen 
had been hired by the day, they had bowled 
us five short minutes, and their entree was 
paid by their patrons to Japan's great na- 
tional show. Little brown boys, who were 
aspiring athletes, bared their hard chests, 
and spread themselves with pride, to prove 
their probability of future fame and prowess. 
For centuries, the profession has been 
honoured in the empire, and, so soon as a 
boy develops any aptitude, he is set apart 
for a trained wrestler. Often the glory of 
success descends with the ancestral name, 
and is a goodly heritage and tradition of 
old families, so that the name is a synonym 
of renown among the brotherhood. The code 
of etiquette is most exacting, and details 
which seem a burlesque to the foreigner 
are prime essentials in the ring. When we 
consider the national sport of Spain, loath- 
some and blood-curdling, revolting to all 

65 



A Woman Alone 

decency, we feel that pagan Japan has a 
simple pastime which ennobles and exalts 
its people. 

Like dessert to a good dinner, the great 
champions were reserved for the finals, and 
number three advanced for his test. He 
was a moving mountain of adipose, tipping 
the scales at 365 pounds, and we wondered 
how such a mass of fat could show agility. 
His girdle measured two yards, and he 
could not see far enough over himself to 
sight the silk fringe below the welts of fat 
that rolled about his belt. His opponent was 
little, quick, and wiry, a muscular pigmy, 
beside this giant. We wondered how in the 
name of all Japanese gymnastics, Fatty 
could reach over his ponderous self and find 
the fellow. It seemed a case of the elephant 
and the flea. The dwarf walked around the 
perambulating mountain, sized him up, as 
if to say, "What am I up against?" and 
decided to buck up against the monster. 
Fatty simply shoved his great self against 
the little chap and pushed him off the stage. 

The second champion weighed 280 pounds, 
and quickly disposed of his victim. The 
first champion towered like Goliath, six feet 
seven inches in the air, and by a few speedy 

66 



In the Heart of Japan 

strokes tucked his daring opponent under 
his arm. The people thundered their ap- 
plause, as the name and fame of these con- 
querors were wide in the land. All Japan 
knows and honours the great champions, who 
throw their fellow men. The wrestlers are 
supported partly by gate receipts, and es- 
pecially by patrons, who are very generous 
to their favourites. The natural result fol- 
lows, and the wrestlers have no pride about 
begging. If an athlete spots a friend among 
the spectators he is very sure to " touch " 
him, and quickly our little guide dodged his 
*' friend," the wrestler, that he might retain 
his purse. 

With wails and moans of high falsetto, 
the annunciator declared the next day's 
entries. The harrowing howls awed the na- 
tive audience, and we waited for the climax, 
promised in the " apron procession." To 
the novice, a line of fat men and tall men, 
richly gowned in aprons only, is a unique 
sight, especially when nothing but cords and 
tassels dangle in the back. The men ap- 
proached the stage from two opposite lines, 
wearing apron fronts of glorious colour, rich 
brown, brilliant red, deep green, old gold. 
There were magnificent shades and borders, 

67 



A Woman Alone 

fringe, cord, and tassels of dazzling gold. 
Many a gorgeous apron was woven with a 
thousand dollars' worth of bullion, to give 
this golden shimmer. The fat old lady from 
the East promptly dubbed them " portieres," 
and added, " Such a pity, that the portieres 
could not hang all around." But, though 
each frontispiece had cost a fortune, there 
were greedy people who did not have 
enough. The wrestlers bowed low, on the 
stage, to their admiring friends, and they 
did look a trifle queer to the stranger, as 
they stalked back to their lairs, clad in a 
front rainbow and a wave of gold embroid- 
ery, with a little stick fringe to cover the 
nude simplicity of the rear. As Fatty 
waddled away, gorgeous cords and tassels 
rolled about to find a resting-place on his 
ridges of pork, and I wondered how a man 
of his proportions could raise muscle enough, 
enmeshed in the fat, to proclaim himself an 
athlete, since our notion of that character is 
anti-fat and sinewy frame. 



68 




A WRESTLER IN HIS STATE APRON 



In the Heart of Japan 



CHAPTER IV 

AN OVERLAND JOURNEY 
Economic Travel 

Everybody was in line and nobody miss- 
ing, bootblacks, waiters, porters, a solid 
phalanx, waited for a fee as I left the beauti- 
ful Kioto hotel. The creature who had been 
least in evidence was pushed to the front 
and introduced as '' Your bath-boy, madam," 
but my hand was already in my pocket for 
his profit, and showers of blessings followed 
my showering coin, as I rolled away. How 
I wished myself a grand duchess, to scatter 
bountifully of my largess, for when it re- 
quires so little to make the humble happy, 
one ought to give that little freely. 

I was in Japan to see and not shirk, to 
enjoy the natives and to know their ways, 
therefore I abjured the first-class wagon. 
Exclusive Americans travelled thus, and I 

69 



A IVoman Alone 

had not come to Japan to study them, so I 
booked with the humbler people, third class, 
because there was not any fourth, and I was 
with the rank and file of the country. It was 
always smoky, and generally crowded, and 
the seats were hard and narrow, but here was 
life, and it was not bad, and I decidedly liked 
it. Fat babies from over their mammas' 
shoulders grinned and cooed, and tugged at 
my plumes; perhaps my next neighbour 
threw back his kimono and scratched his 
bare leg, far above the knee, but it seemed 
so natural, when the leg needed scratching, 
that I did not object. 

An Attempted Theft 

The successful traveller aims to adapt 
himself to the ways of the country, and I 
only questioned them, when a suave chap in 
long sleeves tried to relieve me of my watch. 
Even the delights of Japan might end in 
robbery, as in other lands. He leaned across, 
to get the view, and incidentally, the watch, 
for I felt a sharp tugging at my belt. I 
grabbed for the chain and lifted his hand 
directly from the guard. He gazed on me 
with superb coolness, then stared into space 

70 



In the Heart of Japan 

with the abstraction of a Buddhist priest; 
but already he had cut a strand in the chain, 
and a little lighter touch would have sepa- 
rated the watch and its owner for ever. Ten 
years ago, a watch was almost unknown to 
the native, but now every man and many a 
woman carries a ticker within the obi, often 
enshrined in a chamois bag. 

Native Manners on the Railway 

Second class was softer for the hard trip 
of sixteen hours between Kioto and Yoko- 
hama, and the centre aisle had a long seat 
on each side, like a tram. Only elegant 
and wealthy Japs could travel so, and to 
watch them was a pleasure. Such profusion 
of politeness in parting! Each friend 
doubled up at right angles, and watched the 
other from the tail of his eye, to see if the 
vis-a-vis continued to bend. They flopped 
again and again, doing the jackknife act a 
half-dozen times, resting the hands on the 
knees, and bathed in sweet smiles, as they 
poured out a sequence of compliments and 
good wishes. 

One dear old couple filled the aisle in 
these double-up antics and chattered their 

71 



A Woman Alone 

blessings as they blocked the way, and all 
travel was suspended, till the ankle-deep 
bows were ended. When her little man dis- 
appeared for a time, the old lady stretched 
full length and fell asleep. When he found 
his domain thus preempted and populated, 
and his rights infringed, he looked dismayed 
and scratched his head. There were three 
ways out of the trouble. He could take the 
vacant seat opposite, put his luggage on the 
floor, or wake the little lady. The last 
course best became his dignity, so he pulled 
her leg, pinched her feet, and tickled her 
toes to signify his presence. She opened her 
sleepy little eyes, realized the wrong she had 
done, drew herself up close like a bundle 
of cramps, and the loving couple settled 
down in content. 

They all carried handsome rugs to pro- 
tect the kimonos, and often they first spread 
a newspaper to protect the rug. They were 
beautifully gowned, and many boasted a 
shining solitaire. Two crested ladies in soft 
silk underdress wore dark cloth over kimo- 
nos. They fished in the depths for pipe 
and tobacco, and tugged serenely at the three 
little puffs which the pipe held. Then pat, 
pat, pat, they knocked out the ashes. Next 

72 



In the Heart of Japan 

they tried the musical mysteries of a mouth- 
piece. There was a prolonged upper note, 
with a sudden jerk, and the instrument was 
switched to the other end of the mouth. I 
smiled in sympathy with the operatic effect, 
and the ladies giggled and fell on each 
other's necks in weighty embarrassment. 

For hours little women knelt at the win- 
dow, intent on the fleeting landscape, and 
others curled their feet on the seat, and 
dropped their tired heads on their arms. 
Rows of wooden clogs ran down the aisle. 
The semi-European, wrapped in a rig of 
all nations, doffed his foreign shoes, and 
doubled up, au naturel. 

A loving couple, done up in one rug, 
slept soundly, feet to feet. When he decided 
to change his kimono, he waked up his wife. 
She dreamily dove in the carpet-bag, where 
numerous lovely gowns were stored, and he 
did himself up like a mummy in a fourth 
layer of elegance. She passed him an air- 
pillow, in dainty silk cover. He returned it, 
and I wondered what was the matter with 
the wind-bag. Air was lacking. She blew 
it up and returned it. His lordship conde- 
scended to put it under his head and fall 
asleep. Her service was not sad nor perfunc- 

73 



A IVoman Alone 

tory. She cared for him as if he was her 
infant. This was why she existed. It was 
all part of the legal compact called mar- 
riage, which may be broken at any time, by 
either party who is tired of the contract. 

The car was soon strewn with beer bottles, 
milk bottles, and various debris, and hourly 
a boy with a scratchy broom gave a 
sweep-up, as the cuspidors spilled over with 
burnt matches, cigarette stumps, and ashes. 
Expectorating was all done from the car 
window. 

Chow was bought at the stations, in wooden 
boxes of rice, squid, beans, cold potato, 
everything dear to the native palate. Rows 
of teapots ran down the car, and venders 
were strapped with trays of earthen teapots 
and cups, and the travellers indulged m the 
native beverage, and giggled delightedly in 
relating funny yarns. Rivers of left-over 
tea ran the length of the car, and the tea- 
pots danced a merry jig. 

One man had brought a gargling appara- 
tus, and regularly knelt at the window to rinse 
his mouth and squirt a mighty stream at the 
surrounding country, where coolies stood 
knee-deep in water, turning up rich mud and 
slime. Every foot of ground was utilized in 

74 



In the Heart of Japan 

the wee patches, square, oblong, triangular, 
crescent, which fitted into the space. Rice 
and barley were plentiful, and beyond the 
low-lying farms were thatched huts, which 
grew roofs of grass. The valleys were 
walled by towering hills of maples, pines, 
and cherries. 



A Vain Attempt to ''Hustle the East 



ff 



A Japanese train never runs, and three 
hours of slow trot landed us at Nagoya, 
memorable for my first and last attempt at 
American rush. " Make the rikman hurry. 
I have a date, and can't wait here all day," 
I said, impatiently. The boss blazed like 
a fiery dragon. " Veil, you get so mad, you 
no can wait for dis, you go fine nodder 
riksha," and I answered meekly: "Dear 
friend, you do not know me. I am not the 
least bit mad. This is only a gentle Ameri- 
can hustle. If you want me to be real mad, 
I will show you the difference." " Veil, you 
vas almos' mad," he insisted. " You seem 
jus' like mad when you say, ^ No can wait, 
mus' have riksha quick, hurry up.' " I 
learned my lesson and I always waited, for 
it was useless " to hustle the East." 

75 



A IVoman Alone 
Nagoya's Old Castle 

Far in the distance one sees the golden 
dolphins on Nagoya^s castle peaks. They 
are covered with netting to defy the birds, 
and their tails turn up, while their heads 
turn down, as if they were biting a piece 
of the roof. One gilded monster went to 
the Paris Exposition, and was shipwrecked 
and drowned on his return. Machinery 
brought him up, and now he rests on the 
castle bold, defying the elements. The deep, 
wide moats and solid walls were a strong 
defence before great guns could drive their 
shot and shell through miles of space to shat- 
ter solid ramparts. Then the visiting Sho- 
gun, in his higher room, received the 
Daimyo and lesser lights, who knelt in the 
room which was built a foot lower. 

The castle-keep holds fascinating mystery. 
Breath failed and bones were tired long ere 
I reached the top of that five-storied stone 
structure of Egyptian darkness and steep 
wooden stairways, horrible ladders to climb 
with aid of a clumsy rail. There were 
dreadful " oubliettes " and trap-doors, down 
which the victims fell, to be for ever for- 
gotten. One could people the place with 

76 



In the Heart of Japan 

phantoms and wrecks of the past. The keep 
would make a big granary, and with its 
" well of the golden water," the troops could 
long hold out, — in olden days. In a few 
fatal seconds the firing of our modern guns 
would blast the giant mass to flinders. 

A Native Picnic 

Rikky took me to a famous garden, where 
a club a hundred strong was having a picnic. 
Their gay gowns of red, yellow, green, blue, 
orange, scarlet, purple, glanced like rain- 
bows in the shrubbery, under the arched 
bridges, in the boats, at the arbours, among 
the flowers, and contrasted with the purple 
iris which fringed the banks. The men 
toyed and capered with the giddy geisha girls 
until they entered the large hall, which was 
ranged with red mats about a hollow square, 
where each man had his smoking-set and 
box of chow. 

Eagerly they urged the foreign lady to the 
banquet, placed hot embers, and mourned 
that I did not smoke, but I must accept the 
cigarettes. They knew I could not eat the 
squid and rice, so my special host picked 
out his largest, fattest orange slices, and 

77 



A Woman Alone 

passed them on the chop-sticks. He poured 
me sake, but, alas! it was hot, and cold sake 
is so delicious! They brought a long bottle 
and deep glasses. I thought it was cham- 
pagne, and greedily accepted. Buncoed 
again! It was only native beer! I drank, 
and when my vis-a-vis asked for the glass, 
as I was not up on etiquette, I thought it 
was to be refilled. Promptly I passed it, 
without draining. Terrible faux pas! My 
host looked sadly in the depths, consulted 
a neighbour, filled and drank, and drained 
the last drop into the waste bowl, refilled, 
and passed me the foaming cup. That was 
friendship, that was form, to drink from the 
same glass. 

Would I like music and the dance? He 
touched the strings of the koto, and pointed 
to the geishas. Old music women mounted 
the stage and touched off minor notes of their 
instruments, and the girls whirled about like 
gaudy butterflies, fluttered their fans, and 
stamped their feet, and waved their wings 
in airy revolutions. This was high art, and 
rounds of applause went up from the club. 

A dark-robed maid pinched my arm and 
pulled my sleeve to tell me to go home. 
Amid a shower of bows, I dragged myself 

78 



In the Heart of Japan 

from the floor, and was set on a mat in a 
dark room below, and given more tea and 
cake, as they seemed to think there was no 
limit to my eating capacity. I devoutly 
kneeled, scraped my head on the floor, and 
bowed myself away, wondering where there 
was a club in America which would so cor- 
dially have received a Japanese woman who 
blundered into its private picnic on an an- 
nual festival. 

A Night in a Wayside Inn 

At night I landed alone at a hamlet where 
there was no word of English. A coolie 
carried my bag a few feet, slung it to an- 
other, and demanded his fee. " Oh, no, 
carry all way. I no pay now, pay at hotel," 
I said. He understood, sheepishly grinned, 
and picked up the bag. 

At the threshold of the inn the entire 
family pounced upon me for my shoe leather. 
It was a clear case of " pulling the leg." I 
was fast being distorted and disjointed, so 
I indicated that I would do my own undress- 
ing. The shoes were hidden away, and I 
pattered down the hall to the most remark- 
able hotel room, for emptiness and cleanli- 

79 



A JVoman Alone 

ness, which I had ever entered. It contained 
absolutely nothing but the spotless white 
matting on the floor. As a concession to my 
foreign ways, they brought a chair and 
table. 

I proceeded to my usual method of indi- 
cating famine, by placing one hand on my 
stomach and the other on my mouth. Here 
was a case where ordinary " signs and 
omens " failed. They took the feat as dra- 
matic attitudinizing, and doubled up with 
mirth. Then I tried high art, and cackled 
like a hen, I thought. They did not rec- 
ognize the barn-yard note, and fell into more 
merriment. I felt very much like a con- 
tinuous vaudeville, but made another ven- 
ture, this time in the realm of objective art, 
and drew a hen, as I supposed, with eggs, 
as these seemed simple, natural food in the 
country. But they did not recognize the 
bird, and indulged in more convulsions. 
Certainly the professional clown never ex- 
tracted more spontaneous applause from his 
admiring audience. At last I hit upon the 
word " omelet." They knew its meaning, 
and they flew off to save my life. In a 
moment the procession pattered back, wav- 
ing a plate and chop-sticks, with a slippery, 

80 



In the Heart of Japan 

semi-fluid, semi-liquid concoction, which 
they proceeded to watch me eat. I could 
not wiggle the sticks, and the omelet was 
fast running away from itself. I thought 
I must drink it, when there was a voluble 
discussion, and the procession ran off, to 
return brandishing a soup-spoon, evidently 
left by a foreigner. So I spooned away my 
omelet, while the little girls leaned their 
elbows on the table and discussed my finery. 
Then I attempted to indicate fatigue. 
^^ Tired, sleepy," I said, as I laid my face in 
my hands and drew long breaths. This was 
a simpler proposition, and they dragged in 
the heavy futans, spangled with peacocks 
and gold thread. They said a gentle '^ sayo- 
nara," and pattered away, leaving me alone 
with the bedquilts. In this sequestered cor- 
ner, queerly enough, there were electric 
lights and bells. The partitions were slid- 
ing screens of rice-paper, naturally without 
lock or key, and about a third way up from 
the floor ran a transparent pane, so that the 
occupant was clearly visible to any one pass- 
ing. I placed my letter of credit under my 
pillow, and the dirk which I had bought 
on Teapot Hill, resolved that whoever 
sought the letter would get the dirk first I 

8i 



A Woman Alone 

Not a wink of sleep was in store for the 
foreigner. Across the way, the natives were 
giving a grand dinner, and ^' there was the 
sound of revelry by night," as the little 
nesans pattered to and fro with trays of sake, 
fish, and rice, and " the fun grew fast and 
furious " as the night wore on. The sea 
dashed on the beach below, and the rats 
scampered and raced in the ceiling. Every 
hour the old watchman slippered through 
the house with his lantern, and gazed guard- 
edly at my transparent pane. Every time 
he came I expected to be robbed and mur- 
dered and thrown into the sounding sea, and 
every time he left I was safer than before. 
With the late trains came new arrivals, with 
sliding of screens, scuffling of feet, and 
sound of voices. 

Toward morn, I sat upright in bed, rub- 
bing my eyes. Was it nightmare, or was it 
reality that carried me back to childhood's 
day and to Sunday-school hours? It was 
reality, and I was sane. The notes of a 
wheezy, squeaky accordion piped out on the 
air the strong, familiar strain, " Nearer, my 
God, to Thee." " Would you were nearer 
to God, and farther from me," was my first 
thought. They followed the tune with that 

82 



In the Heart of Japan 

other placid hymn, " He Leadeth Me, O 
Blessed Thought," and, although the mu- 
sical natives probably associated no thought 
with the notes, murder and robbery seemed 
farther away as the stranger listened to the 
sacred concert. Before morning sharp dys- 
pepsia followed on the heels of the nocturnal 
orgy, and the feasters emitted grunts and 
groans, while one rioter made a dreamy 
attack on his neighbour, which the victim 
evidently resented, and the chorus of wails 
suggested Welsh rarebit at the banquet board. 
Before daylight they were all volubly dis- 
cussing the party, while the midgets ran 
away with the rolls of quilts. As I trundled 
back my screens, the neighbours across the 
way were dramatically waving their angel 
sleeves, flourishing their towels, and bran- 
dishing tooth-brushes. There was no water 
in the bare room, and every one washed at 
the public sink in the hall, an immaculate 
wooden trough, with a brass basin polished 
to the reflection of a mirror. A stack of 
brushes shredded to fibres at the end were 
used as ear swabs by the cleanly natives. 
It was at this point in her toilet that a 
prim maiden school-teacher from U. S. A. 
felt a shadow steal up to her side, and turned 

83 



A JVoman Alone 

to find a gentle Japanese clad simply in a 
placid smile, waiting patiently for his chance 
to bathe. The lady was unused to the nude 
simplicity of the Orient, and ran shrieking 
to her room, leaving the bewildered man to 
cogitate on her unseemly haste. 

I pattered back and spooned away another 
omelet, as that was the one word we had 
in common, and I scuffled to the office to 
pay my bill and scatter a few shekels, which 
were received with an abandonment of 
mirth, as the recipients again doubled up 
in convulsions. This was a truly native inn, 
where the people were unspoiled by the tour- 
ist, and they had not learned the meaning 
of a fee. They could not restrain their 
amusement, but all had been courteous and 
kindly. I alone had thought of robbery and 
murder. The steel of my dirk glittered with 
shame as it slipped into the sheath. 

Miyanoshifa, among the Mountains 

Sturdy pushman and puUman bowled me 
through the forest and among mountain 
passes. Tumbling waters tore madly down 
the steeps of clean-cut gorges and deep 
divides. Cascades, cataracts, waterfalls, tore 

84 



In the Heart of Japan 

away in a triumph of joy. The birds in 
the thicket poured forth such floods of delir- 
ious music that the butterflies stopped in 
their chase to listen. 

The riksha climbed up and up, to beauti- 
ful Miyanoshita, in the heart of a hot spring 
region, which is the fashionable resort for 
foreign gentry, where the embassies make 
a popular outing. Fugiya Hotel is famed as 
being the loveliest house in all Japan. It 
is faultlessly clean, and its service is entirely 
by little nesans, who flit about in the bright- 
est gowns, and seem like gay bouquets flash- 
ing in our midst. Usually the hotel service 
in Japan is by boys, though one sometimes 
finds a mixture of the sexes. The propri- 
etor's daughter had passed five years in the 
French convent of Tokio, and was at home 
with three languages. She stowed me away 
in the daintiest den, and coddled me ten- 
derly. " I will send up toast and tea, then 
you can have a bath, and go to bed at once," 
she said, and it was hard to persuade her 
that I had not come so far for a midday 
nap. The shiny w^oodcn well of the bath 
boasted three faucets and a shower, and dust 
and fatigue w^re soon rubbed away. 

Below the green slopes of the cleanly 

85 



A Woman Alone 

hotel the street was lined with miniature 
shops of toys and furs and curios. I dragged 
lofty brass candlesticks from Matsuzawa's 
hoard of helmets, swords, and ivory carvings. 
Kitai told with naivete the history of his 
English. Five years before he had begun 
the struggle, and every night for a year he 
had been at the Tokio mission with a hun- 
dred other boys for reading, writing, and 
conversation. Amazingly good was his Eng- 
lish, given with the universal testimony, 
" learned at the mission." Here at least 
was a raison d^etre for the missions, to teach 
English and to civilize. It had a commer- 
cial value for the nation, even though the 
missions did not convert and proselyte. 

The Natives' Love for Children 

When a little shopman mentioned his wife, 
I asked for the children, and learned the 
whole family history. " Me no haf got 
chillen, me want very much. My wife no 
could haf. She been very sick, she go hos- 
pital, Tokio, haf operation, now she much 
better, she get very strong, me hope haf chil- 
len very soon." I suggested that children 
were a care and trouble, that his wife might 

86 



In the Heart of Japan 

not like the bother, and he said in sweet 
astonishment: ''My wife, she no tink much 
trouble, she very much want little baby, she 
tink little chillen very nice," and the speech 
revealed two points in Japanese character, — 
the childlike simplicity, by which the native 
speaks most readily of all things natural, 
and the love and longing for the little one 
in every humble home, where the baby is 
tenderly anticipated and warmly welcomed. 

hake Hakone 

The trip to Lake Hakone is the tourist's 
delight and I was swung aloft in a wicker 
chair, with high back, broad arms, rest- 
basket for the feet, attached to bamboo poles, 
and borne on the shoulders of four natives. 
Up the narrow foot-path, down the steep 
descent they plodded, keeping time with a 
steady step and frequent grunt. Each thud 
and jounce struck home to my stomach, as 
the lofty chariot swayed. " An ocean swell 
and a seasick voyage," I thought. " Cuish," 
they all sang, as a signal to swing me to the 
other shoulder. From the thick of the steep 
forest they marched to the open sweep of 
valleys green. Half-hidden in the brush- 

87 



A Woman Alone 

wood was a dignified Buddha, carved in the 
solid rock. Centuries ago the chisel of Kobe 
Daisha cut the rock, and in majestic dignity 
the god has guarded the plain and watched 
for the coming tourist. He recalled Thor- 
waldsen's lion, but the pagan god of all 
wisdom and truth was a greater wonder, 
carved in the Nippon plain. 

Three hours of swinging and repeated 
calls of '' cuish " brought me to the shore of 
Lake Hakone, where the noonday meal was 
in order. It seemed an insult to the snowy 
heights beyond. But mundane pangs called 
me down from the state of exaltation, and 
I ate beneath the dazzling cone of sacred 
Fuji, which only in recent years has suf- 
fered the polluting step of woman. The 
novice may confuse mountain peaks and 
ridges, but no one can mistake Fuji, rising 
solitary in its snowy purity to stand in solemn 
grandeur the monarch of the country. Dear 
to every native heart is this holy height. 
Never did imaginative Greek turn to Olym- 
pus a more adoring love than these little 
people offer at this sacred shrine. Many a 
weary pilgrimage brings them here to wor- 
ship, since poesy and sentiment are traits 



88 



In the Heart of Japan 

deep-rooted with religion in the Nippon 
nature. 

While the sampan bore me across the 
water, the tired coolies fell asleep, curled up 
on the floor. A shivering creature with 
plastered legs was wrapped up in a matting. 
" Velly, velly coP," said his chum, as he 
cowered in scant raiment before the cutting 
wind. He speedily snored away his trou- 
bles when I passed him an extra wrap. 
" Small money, sake," cried the boatman, 
taking his tariff. Sake is to the coolie what 
pourboire is to the French cocher, or mac- 
aroni is to the Neapolitan, and he grate- 
fully bowed his thanks. 

The Hot Springs of Ubago 

Among nature's wildest freaks, the bearers 
bore me to the hot springs of the hamlet 
of Ubago, where barrels of water were tum- 
bling into the tanks of the little bath-house 
sunk in the hillside. Girls and boys, old 
men and women, merry maids and jolly 
youths, flopped and splashed and scrubbed 
with delight. There were three in one tub, 
nine in the next, and eleven in the third by 
actual count. And their clothes were skin 

89 



A Woman Alone 

tight, and had never been changed since the 
day the folks were born. Yet there were 
no tears nor rents, for not a shred did they 
wear to cover Mother Nature's birthday 
dress, with which they entered the world! 
Simple children these, as happy, if not as 
innocent, as those in Paradise before the fall. 

We plunged through a forest to enter 
" Great Hell," where nature once made a 
mighty powwow, and where she threatens, 
by sight and sound, again to hold high car- 
nival. A wild waste of rock is spread over 
the broad region. Volcanic action has 
hurled huge boulders and tossed other stones 
to fragments. Angry forces seething, raging 
under the earth's crust, still struggle to 
escape their gloomy prison. Sulphurous 
fumes rise in clouds from multitudinous fis- 
sures. Warm lava smokes at the mouths, 
and a roar from below comes up like the 
boom of artillery. Fighting forces will yet 
tear the surface open and vomit forth the 
entrails of the earth. 

Only Shank's mare can travel on the slopes 
of " Great Hell," and I left the chariot, to 
creep along the rocky ledges and stumble 
among rolling stones. I crossed the sulphur- 
ous streams on stepping-stones, and clung to 

90 



In the Heart of Japan 

the faithful coolie, as I dangled over the 
abyss. Better was the swinging chair than 
the steep climb and dizzying descent, and 
with joy I swung again to the coolies' shoul- 
ders. Thatched homes and gardens con- 
trasted tenderly with the gloomy region of 
extinct volcano. Green were the fields and 
the distant range compared with the wild 
and desert waste. But first among the pano- 
ramic views of that changeful day will stand 
for ever the dazzling purity of that clear- 
cut cone of snowy Fuji, sacred mountain of 
the Nipponese. 



91 



A JVoman Alone 



CHAPTER V 

A NATIONAL RITE 
Nikko in the June Celebration 

" See Nikko and die " is the motto of the 
native, and the tourists swarm to this famed 
beauty-spot for the two days of celebration, 
when the spirit of the great Shogun is con- 
veyed from one tomb to the other. I 
alighted in a downpour of rain, and was 
greeted by the bland man of the hotel, who 
was full of apologies, as if quite responsible 
for Dame Nature's freaks. 

" I am varee sorry eet eez so wat," he said 
so pitifully that I cheerily asked if it always 
rained in beautiful Nikko. 

" Not af ry day," he said in a tone which 
left little room for hope, " and it nafer rains 
on the procession," he added. Evidently the 
heavens themselves paid respect to the great 
Shogun. 

92 



In the Heart of Japan 

When I arrived at the hotel, the host 
called me by name, as if I were the one per- 
son on earth whom he hoped to see, and a 
score of kindly lads and lassies gathered at 
the riksha and attacked my luggage. The 
little town was shut in by a wall of high 
peaks, and the clouds hung like blankets on 
the mountains. 

A great event was coming, one sacred 
throughout the empire, and famed even to the 
foreigner, and everybody would arrive who 
could possibly scurry to these hills from any 
corner of the pretty island. Great prepara- 
tions were in progress and the hotel was 
thronged with guests. June ist and 2d are 
wonderful days for Nikko, and geisha girls, 
jig-steps, and fireworks were in order for 
the first day, which chanced to be Sunday, 
and which dawned fair amid much rejoicing, 
while the workmen's hammers banged upon 
the grand stand, which was still unfinished 
when the show began. 

I was bargaining at a curio store for a 
pair of lofty candlesticks, when a dozen 
geishas, painted and powdered, rolled up the 
street. I raced with the riks, lest something 
should be missed, and we all just escaped 
the sharp shower that came scudding from 

93 



A Woman Alone 

the mountains. " Hard on the geishas," said 
a sympathetic flirt, but their stage was roofed 
with oiled paper, and they had little discom- 
fort. 

All the village was behind the bamboo 
railing that shut off the humble from those 
of high degree, yet did not prevent these 
poorer children of the streets from seeing 
the wonders of the stage. A wee gamin tod- 
dled under the bars to the front, in wide- 
eyed, open-mouthed admiration of the sirens 
who floated waves of colour above his head. 
The unabashed joy of the urchin, till cor- 
ralled by his mother, was the amusement of 
the crowd. Drum and flute, kato and sami- 
sen, performed to the graceful sweep of 
geisha gowns. 

Lavish Entertainment of Guests 

Mr. Aral was the misfit name of our host, 
an incongruous sobriquet for a little man 
always in order. He was anything but awry, 
as he pirouetted about the diner in patent 
leathers and evening suit. He had made the 
hall a scene of beauty, by bringing birds and 
flowers from the woods. A floral scheme of 
ferns and azaleas enlivened the tables, and 

94 



In the Heart of Japan 

a dainty boutonniere peeped from each plate. 
From soup to nuts, the delicacies in season 
and out of season rejoiced the epicure. Fas- 
tidious folks purloined the menu that they 
might send to fearful friends at home the 
proof that they were not starving in the 
wilderness. 

By night the artistic grounds were a gleam 
of fairy splendour. Coy lights below ri- 
valled the glittering stars above. Soft rays 
from gay lanterns shot among the shrubs, and 
lights hung from rustic arbours and edged 
the miniature lake. The villagers leaned on 
the barriers to indulge in the joys of Eden. 
Fireworks are the delight of the native, and 
pinwheels whizzed, fiery serpents squirmed 
and hissed in the grass, rockets shot high in 
air, and the children shot admiring " oh's." 
Guests wrapped in blankets, like moving 
mummies patrolled the veranda, fighting the 
sharp mountain air. Stage curtains caught 
on the ropes or flapped in the wind, and 
footlights blew themselves out in the dark- 
ness at the most thrilling point of the play. 
The variety of the vaudeville appealed to 
the gallery gods. Rowdies and highwaymen 
in ragtag toggery played high jinks with 
swords that flashed as if in deadly earnest. 

95 



A Woman Alone 

Baggy breeches and cloudy turbans gave 
dramatic effect to their flashing sabres. Wee 
children under thatched hats of ragged 
fringe performed like little baboons. Pan- 
tomime repeated the old, old story of the 
" Suitor Sought," and it was a burning ques- 
tion of two to one, as each coy maiden played 
up to the vacillating lover, who appeared a 
brilliant rose between two pricking thorns. 
The audience never knew which persistent 
maid had captured the booty, so much was 
left to the imagination. 

While love or robbery held the stage, 
geisha girls royally flirted with every avail- 
able American. " Every one of them is a 
born flirt, a natural coquette," said a man 
who was offering himself in proof of his 
theory. The morale of the girl has been 
so generally discussed and denounced that 
every man goes to Japan with intent to know 
the geisha, and he is morally responsible for 
much of the social sin which the Japanese 
girl shoulders. He assails her with wiles and 
smiles and flattery till her empty head is 
turned, and he takes liberties that no gentle- 
man, no decent man, could use in any other 
land, — and the most modest miss becomes 
an artful flirt. 

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In the Heart of Japan 

The Great Procession of the Shoguns' Spirits 

Day dawned in glory, and tourists and pil- 
grims were zealous to witness the transfer 
of the spirits of great leyasu, of the warrior 
Hideyoshi, and of the noble lemitsu, with all 
their sacred paraphernalia, to another temple. 
Villagers decked in gay finery joined the 
holy priesthood in the annual march, and 
the jolly crowds at the vantage-grounds 
chosen by the hotels gave little idea that 
the ceremony was solemn. Guests, an hour 
in advance, were refreshed with ice-cream, 
ever dear to the American, and assembled 
villagers and countrymen crowded to the 
ropes for a view of the wondering foreigners. 
Blind children groped their way with staves 
in a wistful, hungry search for the joys that 
were shut out of their lives. 

A congestion in travel caused the minia- 
ture policeman to enforce authority among 
the gaping crowds. He had not the bigness 
of the English police, but he carried disci- 
pline with him. He especially cleared the 
way for the hotel people, and, with the in- 
stinctive courtesy of the native, the grand 
patriarch of the hotel floated to the scene and 
bowed deep, with the dignity of his ances- 

97 



A IVoman Alone 

tors, and worthy of the departed spirits, be- 
fore the little officer. A kindness never goes 
unnoticed in Japan. 

The spectators had little of general intel- 
ligence to spare. Just why we had come, 
and what we should see, nobody knew; but 
all comprehended that it was Nikko's famed 
fete, and a noted Shinto rite. 

The click of the camera caught the pag- 
eant as it swept through the shade of the 
kingly forest, among those grand old crypto- 
maria that for scores of years had looked 
in stately dignity on the priest, the peasant, 
and the stranger. On came the advance- 
guard of one hundred and fifty white-robed 
saints, tearing over the road like a pack of 
howling maniacs, dragging the sacred trees 
with noise and rush. 

Then came the tramping lancers, with 
their long, sharp halberds, followed by the 
" Great Divine," a most holy personage who 
bore among his titles the name of " Com- 
mander of the Procession." As clown in a 
country circus he would have been the terror 
of the children, with his terrible red-skinned 
mask and bulbous nose. After him came 
six little men, with broomstick legs escap- 
ing from gilded drapery, who wore hideous 

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In the Heart of Japan 

male and female lion masks, while their 
human features strained for breath between 
the lion jaws. The musicians raised a fright- 
ful racket, but eight dainty priestesses, or 
Shinto dancing girls, were a picturesque bit 
of beauty in flowing sleeves of white and 
divided skirts of red. What wheeling they 
would have done, perched on a modern 
Rambler! The mounted priesthood did not 
ride as to the manor born, and the sacred 
ponies were not blue-blooded. The irrev- 
erent youngster from America did not care if 
they were in a sacred procession. His nature 
was more sporty than holy, and he promptly 
dubbed the gawky creatures " Graveyard, 
Tombstone, Rattlebones." 

The clank of metal plates inspired more 
respect for gunners, spearmen, archers, and 
soldiers in armour. The giant guns were 
heavy, and the terrible long bows loomed 
much taller than their bearers. Two hun- 
dred men formed the military force, con- 
trasting with a dozen tiny priests, the aco- 
lytes of the Shinto service, crowned with 
bright flower-caps. Fifty masked men, of 
every terrible sort, followed, and then came 
stately priests carrying tall banners tipped 
with fans. A mounted bearer of the sacred 

99 

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A Woman Alone 

sword was surrounded by his holy body- 
guard, and emblems of the temple were in 
the procession, — the flag, lances, and drum, 
which sounded its harsh tattoo for the spirit 
of the dead; nor was the big bell missing. 
" A motley array of temple trumpery," said 
the critic, but he had nothing to say in pres- 
ence of the thirty monkey-boys, rigged up 
to represent our simian ancestors. Then 
came the trainers, with the sacred monkey 
who did not like holy processions, and hid 
his face in the folds of his master's gown, 
as if blushing for all of his descendants. 

Though the Shinto priests may not be fol- 
lowers of Darwin, the tricky quadruped is 
an important feature in Nikko's history. 
His fame is wide throughout Japan, and, 
though he does not run wild in the woods, 
nor hurl sticks on the coming tourist, as 
many anticipate, he is a holy symbol, carved 
in three attitudes on the sacred stable dedi- 
cated to the great leyasu, where he piously 
shuts his ears and eyes and mouth to evil. 
He is Nikko's holy trade-mark, on box and 
tray and table, in group of polished ivory, 
bidding the harsh censor, " Hear no evil, see 
no evil, speak no evil," and I wondered how 



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In the Heart of Japan 

thoroughly the modern Christian world 
would learn the pagan's lesson. 

Behind the shamefaced quadruped came 
humbler priests, musicians, and types of old 
nobility in costumes of gaudy colour and of 
quaint design. White robes and conical 
black hats, green coats and blue breeches, 
fantastic colours, mingled in the outfit, till 
it seemed as if phantoms of an old museum 
were marching by. There were all the 
grandeur and austerity of the old Shogun, 
wrapped in crested garments and waving 
his glittering wand. 

Behind the nobles came the falconers, 
proud of the birds resting on their masters' 
wrists, as they blinked in the sun, longing 
to break their chains and fly to the deep 
forest. 

The motley panorama was an unintelli- 
gible composite to the stranger, but the glory 
of it all was the " Gohei," or divine spirit, 
a holy paper of dazzling gilt, radiant as with 
heavenly glory. It is the yearly offering 
of the emperor, who is himself divine, and 
it is sent the day preceding the procession. 
Without its presence there could be no cele- 
bration. Three times it appeared as a guard- 
ian to each of the three shrines, but it re- 

lOI 



A Woman Alone 

ceived not a fraction of the honour which 
fell to the shrines themselves. 

We had heard the verdict, " Every person 
will stand, and the men will bare their heads 
when the great shrine comes in sight." It 
approached, as the wildest, maddest, mer- 
riest sight a waiting throng could ever wish 
to see. It might be a bacchanalian orgy, 
or the frantic antics of ungoverned maniacs. 
Waves of noise rolled up from the throats of 
the bearers as they staggered and reeled 
under the weight of their shrine. If the 
spirit of the great leyasu was within, it was 
terribly tumbled and tossed in its slumbers! 
His was a ponderous spirit, to judge from 
the struggles of its bearers. Fifty white-clad 
priests and forty guards bore the treasure, 
resting on long beams. It was brilliant with 
rich trimmings of red lacquer and gold, yet 
the crowds gave it but secondary thought. 
Attention centred in the shrieking men who 
bore the burden. They bent beneath it, they 
reeled and staggered, till we thought the 
giant thing would topple down and crush 
its victims. The affrighted crowds fell back, 
not wishing to feel the weight of leyasu in 
his shrine. As the priests gasped for air, the 
attendants fanned them desperately, and 

I02 



In the Heart of Japan 

rivers of perspiration rolled from their 
swarthy faces. With a wild effort and a 
mighty stride, they dragged on, and shortly 
made another halt. 

Thus was the perilous journey made from 
the permanent home of the illustrious spirit 
to the neighbouring temple, where it should 
make a brief sojourn. At night, with the 
same weary effort and barbaric display, it 
returned to its usual resting-place, to wait 
another year. Strangers from all quarters 
of the earth, and natives from every corner 
of the island, had gathered for this wild 
pageant, which was eighteen minutes in 
passing. It was a mystery to the many, who 
could no more realize the glory of Nikko's 
shrine to the Japanese than they can under- 
stand the sacredness of the tomb in distant 
Mecca to the faithful Arab. The crowds 
soon scattered, and left the tall cryptomeria 
towering like sentinels beside the Shoguns 
resting on the hillsides. 

The Mountain Road to Fair Chuzenji 

Sunshine is so rare at Nikko that the tour- 
ists resolved at once upon the visit to Chu- 
zenji, renowned upon the heights, and every 

103 



A Woman Alone 

rik was in demand. One lady fainted as she 
twisted an ankle on entering, and the rikman 
naively explained the accident that " She 
died, but did come back again." Evidently 
it was to him a resurrection scene. 

Bravely they bowled us beside the rushing 
waters, where the famed array of Buddhas 
never adds up twice the same. '^ There are 
certainly two thousand," exclaimed the nov- 
ice. But at least there were two hundred 
gods grinning by the roadside with folded 
hands and placid smile and look of supernal 
wisdom, as if to say of passing tourists, 
"What fools these mortals be!" Moss and 
lichens drape their saintly forms, and, 
though the head of a deity may have rolled 
in the mud, his staunch figure retains its 
stately pose. Years ago, the patriarch of 
the gods rode down-stream in a washout, 
whirling among the boiling eddies, but he 
landed right side up at the next village, 
where to-day he wears a red bib, and is 
worshipped for his triumphal journey by the 
passing peasants. Deep in the crevice of a 
river boulder sits the last scion of this long 
and illustrious line, dashed by the foam of 
the hurrying stream. Kobe Daisha, saint 
and sculptor coeval with famed Charle- 

104 




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In the Heart of Japan 

magne in Europe, carved, in the rough rock, 
this miracle beyond the reach of mortals. 

Eight miles of stifif mountain road ran 
beside the racing river, or deep in the Heart 
of the woods. There was hard scrambling 
for pushman and puUman, but no moan or 
murmur escaped them. They passed each 
rough spot with a laugh of triumph. They 
were reenforced with many sandals, and the 
road was paved with these relics of the run- 
ners, as they pulled on one new pair after 
another, and left the worn one in shreds by 
the road. The men knew every foot of the 
way, and flashed back a sunny smile for 
every appreciative word of the patron. 

We ran through acres of bamboo grass, 
where young shoots striped in green and 
white threw a spring carpet in the azalea 
woods, whose bright flowers made rainbows 
in the air from trunks that were thirty feet 
high. It was the ideal June day of the poet, 
when every tree is new-gowned and the birds 
chant their paean of praise. The crows had 
a joyous caw, and the mocking-bird's note 
rose above the rushing stream, like first 
tenor of a feathered choir. " Waterfall, 
waterfall," cried the men, as they urged us 
to a tramp in the woods, where a glory of 

105 



A JVoman Alone 

water leaped the rocks and tumbled in 
tumult, to catch itself in a pool, where it 
eddied and whirled, then fell over rocks in 
a rainbow mist. 

Four hours the riksha rattled up-hill to 
halt at the hotel on the shore of Lake Chu- 
zenji. Brilliant stalks of azalea lined the 
rooms, and it seemed a wanton destruction 
of innocent foliage, but^ " We can't kill 
them. We stick a shoot in the ground^ and 
it springs to a tree," said the proprietor. 
The lake was heavily stocked, and fisher- 
men threw their weighted nets from opposite 
sides of the outlet^, as they saw the victims 
enter the pass. The loud splash on the water 
scared off the other fish, but the natives had 
the patience which brings success, and waited 
till the last cast of the twine was forgotten. 

Beautiful Chuzenji makes one fear that it 
may become gay and fashionable, and there- 
fore spoiled. It is at present a restful resort, 
and the foreign legations delight in its 
beauty during the long, hard heat of mid- 
summer. Early days make it idyllic for the 
invalid and tourist. 

In the midst of all the natural beauty, near 
to calm lake and radiant flowers, the forest 
sheltered tragic despair. With his obi at- 

1 06 



In the Heart of Japan 

tached to his neck and to a bough, a young 
man, with a few sen in his pocket, had swung 
himself into eternity. No one knew if sick- 
ness and starvation, or a loveless and a lonely 
life, had driven him to death. He was found 
by a passing woodman who finished his work 
before making a report, and still the man 
hung till police could come from distant 
Nikko. 

Death has no fears for the native, and he 
steps bravely across the great divide. The 
simple people of the interior have few needs, 
yet suicide is no uncommon event. It is 
always preferable to slow starvation, and, 
since rice and every necessity have risen in 
price, the poor have known the misery of 
hunger. The old code made death the hon- 
ourable end to misery, and a man disgraced 
looked upon death as duty. By ending the 
struggle, he got even with defeat, or cheated 
further trouble, and wiped out the shame of 
misfortune. 

Eight more miles of stifiP climbing bear the 
traveller through late cherry blossoms, rho- 
dodendrons, and azaleas, that keep the forest 
alive with beauty. Above towered the snowy 
height of holy Nantaizan, ascended by ten 
thousand pilgrims every summer. Only re- 

107 



A Woman Alone 

cently has the foot of woman been allowed to 
tread its holy way, and she must still skirt 
around the sacred portal, through which the 
stern priest forbids her passage. The jolly 
sea-captain, who returned with accumulated 
wisdom and saintliness from the stiff climb 
of four thousand feet, told of the mysteries 
performed on him at the base, of prayers 
and blessings, and the brushing of holy 
papers about his weather-stained brow, ere 
he was allowed to ascend. 

Fifty feet wide, three hundred feet long, 
a wondrous water-slide slipped down its 
smooth incline, gathering power and beauty 
as it rolled in its glassy bed. Never, in all 
my roamings, had I found any whim of 
nature to equal this. Below was a rocky 
isle, hung with trees and fringed with flow- 
ers. It cut the rolling stream, but the di- 
vided waters slipped again into the sunlight 
and chattered on the rocks below. 

On the Heights of Yumoto 

Above Chuzenji rests Yumoto, a miniature 
lake, where the air is rank with sulphur, sug- 
gesting the Inferno. Hot springs well from 
the ground, and bath-houses vomit steam. 

1 08 



In the Heart of Japan 

The steaming liquid is famous for cures, but 
the unwary tourist is often parboiled in its 
terrible heat, and, if he awkwardly loosens 
the spigot, in frantic efforts to cool off, the 
hissing vapours flood the tank, and remind 
him of the horrors of a sulphurous future. 
Even the natives, who are heroic in the baths, 
cool the waters of Yumoto. 

Shaven heads bobbed in the tanks, and 
dusky forms in nude simplicity marched 
down a plank. I had long ceased to call 
such sights indecent, but, with a bit of nat- 
ural modesty, I left the narrow plank and 
skirted in the shrubbery by the way. A 
native sprang, au naturel, from the water and 
ran toward me. His bathing-suit was a 
kindly smile, and he emitted fairly good 
English, which indicated that he thought 
I was showing politeness and reverence 
to the plank. Such deference was need- 
less, and he said: " Thees eez the way, 
lady. Come on the board. Eet eez no con- 
sequence, no consequence at all." He de- 
lighted in his vocabulary, and persisted in 
his effort, without a suspicion that I would 
purposely avoid so simple and natural a 
thing as a naked form. I thought the epi- 
sode of very great ^' consequence," as an 

109 



A Woman Alone 

illustration, but, with needless blushes, I 
emerged from the bushes, resolved to brave 
Japanese simplicity on the narrow plank. 

The rikmen, bent on what was cleanly and 
healthful, dropped to their necks in the vats, 
and began a sulphurous scrub. Their efforts 
extended to the clothes they wore. Spread- 
ing them on the boards, they soaped and 
washed and rinsed away every trace of the 
tiresome trip, and hung the wet garments 
to dry on the bushes. Then they donned 
the clean suits which were under the seat 
of the riksha, and were natty and neat for 
the homeward spin. How many American 
cabmen stand as near as the little Japanese 
rikman to that quality which is next to god- 
liness? 



no 



In the Heart of Japan 



CHAPTER VI 

ALONE IN NIKKO 
Mutual Distrust 

As lovely Nikko is the Mecca of the pil- 
grim and the stamping-ground of the tourist, 
so is it the restful resort of the weary; and 
where the trotters swarm for two days of 
celebration, it was my fortune to linger alone 
six weeks, to walk and talk with the natives, 
and many a heart to heart experience was 
mine. 

While wandering among the monarchs of 
the forest, I met a peasant lad, perhaps of 
eighteen years, with pack on back, peering 
from a wall into the realm below. With all 
a browsing wanderer's interest in things 
novel, I climbed the bank to get his point 
of view. Never had he seen a thing so 
queer and strange drive straight for him. 
Instantly he was on the defensive. He 

III 



A IVoman Alone 

clenched his fists, ground his teeth, flashed 
his eyes, and muttered angry prayers. He 
regarded me as an aggressor, and was ready 
for the fray. He straightened his muscles 
and seemed to say, " I'll kill you, if I must," 
and I thought, " Poor fellow, you don't have 
to. Only let me depart in peace, for I am 
ten times as scared as you are." I was pray- 
ing as fast as he to be delivered from the 
enemy, but I made less fuss about it. I had 
followed close in his path to reach the para- 
pet, where I found, — nothing. The boy 
had become the embodiment of defiance. 
Every gesture was a threat. There was 
blood in his eye, as he took a step forward. 
I backed from the wall and skirted into the 
briers, at the risk of snakes, to avoid the 
insensate youth. He muttered incantations 
to ward off my demoniac self. He cried to 
all the gods, he punctured the air with 
charms to avert the evil spirit. Fiercely he 
denounced the foreign devil, and I slid down 
the bank with a one-sided air and gained 
speed with distance, while he clapped his 
hands and still purified the air of demons. 
When people ask if I was afraid in Japan, 
I think of that infuriate lad in the woods, 
and say: "When the native was afraid of 

112 



In the Heart of Japan 

me, I was truly afraid of him. The scare 
was mutual." 

Visits to the Little Shops 

But the denizens of Nikko treated the 
stranger with much kindness. The town has 
one long main street, lined with tiny homes 
and shops. Every home and shop were mine 
ere I left. I sometimes felt that every child 
was mine. 

On a leafy hill, o'ershadowed by a grove 
of masts, was the daintiest bric-a-brac shop 
in town, whose walls were lined with treas- 
ures. Never could I pass the door without 
the master^s kindly call. Well he knew I 
should not buy, but he had always another 
curio to uncover; something beautiful to 
feast my eyes, — a pet casket or carving, or 
teapot, or sword-hilt of ravishing design, and 
many a chat we had through his limited 
English. He took a childlike interest in 
my wardrobe, told the price of his obi, and 
asked the cost of my shoes. The item im- 
pressed him, and he said: "That make one 
pound each. Very much cost, one shoe, one 
pound," as he told the price of his own straw 
sandals. 

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A Woman Alone 

Celebrating the Birth of the Crown Prince's 

Baby 

The day after the birth of the Crown 
Prince's baby, all the land was rejoicing. 
Many weeks had the people discussed the 
coming event, and the faithful subjects had 
longed for a baby boy. When the glad news 
went forth by wire and by press, everybody 
gave up to a day of feasting and delight. 
The humblest home floated the national ban- 
ner, and mirth and music were in order. 

As I passed the shop, I tried to slide un- 
noticed by the collector. But I heard a 
dash from the door, and the clatter of clogs, 
and there came the friendly call, " Come in 
please; do please come see," and he led me 
by another door to an unknown realm, 
cleanly as the shop, and rich in precious 
trophies. At a low centre-table were rice 
and fish and sake. His little geisha girl was 
curled up in a bunch on the floor with her 
samisen. They were Having a beautiful cele- 
bration without any chaperon, but a third 
party was no intrusion, and the girl thought 
it quite proper to be found alone entertain- 
ing her young man. 

He was voluble with drink, and poured 

114 



In the Heart of Japan 

the sake, saying: "We all so glad — varee 
much want leetle boy — no much like leetle 
girl — my fren come sing, I say * like sake? * 
she say, * varee much, tank,' we drink sake. 
You drink sake, you pleeze me — I take first, 
Japneze costom — drink same cup, you 
'blige me — all very glad — leetle boy come 
— everybody want — all Japneze people 
very happy — me drink more, then you 
drink, all so glad." 

He drained the little egg-shell cup, re- 
filled, and passed it to me, and I gladly drank 
to the Crown Prince and his new baby of 
the mild, sherry-like liquor, which is the 
beverage of Japan and palatable to the 
stranger. The little musician twisted herself 
into a small knot, and struck the strings of 
her lyre, to give out those dismal notes which 
ravish the Japanese heart. It seemed a 
funeral wail, but was meant for a birthday 
welcome. 

Learning to Know the People 

The stranger alone in Nikko had great 
opportunity for good. The native greed for 
English makes the foreigner useful. Jap- 
anese children are most winsome. I have 

115 



A Woman Alone 

counted twenty-three in a bunch, of all di- 
mensions, cuddled down on the door-step. 
They clung to my hands, about my neck, 
under my arms, in my lap, while the mothers 
nodded approval, and I borrowed a baby 
who crowed and laughed in my face. As 
he grew restive, I gave him my finger to 
chew, but the diet did not satisfy, and he 
openly declared his preference to be snug- 
gled in mother's arms. 

Sometimes we exchanged phrases, where 
the stranger knew the equivalent for ^' good 
night, good morning," but oftener the little 
ones learned their words like parrots, and the 
woods echoed with the shouts: "You are 
very nice. I love you, good little girl, dear 
little midget," which last was given with a 
twist that precluded all understanding. 

The Japanese adore their children and are 
proud to show it, before and after the babies 
are born. One day I met a dignified man in 
long robes and high clogs, parading through 
the streets with a diminutive bundle in his 
arms. His face was wreathed in smiling 
affection. " How old, baby? " I asked, as I 
peered down into the fuzzy, woozy bundle. 
" Fourteen day old," said the proud parent, 
and I wondered how many an American 

ii6 



In the Heart of Japan 

father would delight in carrying his two 
weeks old infant through the main street of 
the town! 

The Japanese are kind to the children, and 
apparently do little punishing, and the usual 
baby rewards the laisser-aller system by be- 
ing very jolly. But when he does lift his 
voice, he does it with vigour that makes 
itself heard. One day the wails of a young 
hopeful were let loose on the air, and moth- 
ers and youngsters gathered on the scene. 
They stood mute with consternation at the 
sound. It did seem as if some one was being 
cruelly massacred. Such misery was a con- 
trast to the usual peaceful life of Nikko. It 
tore the nerves of the old Irish-Australian 
lady, who rushed to learn the cause. Baby 
had been refused a penny for candy! The 
old lady's sympathy was curdled to wrath. 
" An' sure, it's a good sound paddy whacking 
I'd bay after a-givin' him, a-stirrin' up a hull 
town fur a pinny fur candy." 

The " wooden lady," of perfect manners, 
pegged away eternally at the blind phrases 
of a ridiculous primer, tracing with her 
bird's-claw fingers the nonsensical words, 
** Is this plant an herbaceous peony? " 

" What botanical rubbish have you struck? 

117 



A Woman Alone 

The man should go to the Bastile who 
writes such stuff in a primer," I cried, and^ 
though she did not comprehend the explo- 
sion, she knew there was something doing, 
and doubled up and cackled, as she brought 
out her dreadful penmanship, which sug- 
gested the old story of the picket-fence. 
The bird claws were brown and shrivelled, 
as if a snake-skin had been drawn over 
them, and to follow their tracery was im- 
possible. 

" Tank you pleeze varee much," she said, 
as we closed the lesson. She was a bun- 
dle of good manners and etiquette, but, 
when caught off her guard, her face in 
repose had the stern stoicism of a brave sa- 
murai. She was the famed coquette of the 
town, dainty and mincing, with sweet and 
gentle voice, and the grace of a true-born 
siren. Her wily ways bowled over the 
strongest men like ninepins. She sub- 
merged them with her wooden wares, and 
loaded them with trays of carved monkeys 
and boxes engraved with waterfalls and 
bridges, which they could not escape. The 
grim old sea-captain set his flinty face 
against her, but she prevailed, as she knew 
she would, and he was helplessly loaded 

ii8 



In the Heart of Japan 

down with red and gold lacquer, of which 
he did not know the meaning or the value. 
She relentlessly knocked at the doors of tired 
tourists at late night, and men emerged after 
a day's hard jaunt, half-dressed and half- 
asleep, and returned from the nocturnal in- 
terviews with less of coin and more of curios. 
I often visited her store for love of the little 
brown puppy which grew to know me. The 
canine rose in value as I caressed him, and 
the lady said, with a crafty eye to business: 
" I no like him, but my farzer luf him, want 
to keep him. I gif him you, but my farzer 
luf him so he no can gif, he want three yenl " 

The Arts and Crafts of the People 

One could study silk culture in these 
homes, as the peasants gathered the panniers 
of leaves; the worms crawled on the shelves, 
and the cocoons bobbed on the boiling 
waters, whence the little maidens deftly 
pulled the perfect fibres. 

The woods of Nikko furnish beautiful 
skins to the market, and the furrier let me 
roam through her inner sanctuary. The fur 
slipper is easy for the gouty foot, and, after 
my purchase, the little lady thanked me 

119 



A Woman Alone 

every time we met, salaaming low with na- 
tive grace and saying, " Tank you var mooch 
for theese morning, tank you for yesterday, 
tank you for las^ week," as the date required, 
till in self-defence I bought another pair that 
the thanks merited might be fresh 1 

Behind the house rose a rough rock, so 
near that it seemed the outer wall of the 
home. Its warm moss was spread with a 
miniature landscape garden. Japanese art 
can be crowded into the smallest space, and 
every feature of the dim old forest was 
there. Rippling streams, roaring cascades, 
dense trees, stone lanterns, sacred torii, and 
Lilliputian men were in evidence. The ser- 
pent slipped through the moss, and frog and 
stork were at the lakeside. 

In the home a pet monkey scrambled over 
the chests, and buried deep in the lady's 
sleeves, for nuts and seeds. He was a house- 
hold favourite, bought for a pound, and I 
was glad to aid in his support, as he was 
considered a great bargain. He wore a 
wonderful coat of gray silk fur, but his face 
was marked by stealthy cunning. He looked 
like the soul of an ancestor in retrograde, 
and he made a bee-line for me as if he rec- 
ognized a member of the family. He 

120 



In the Heart of Japan 

grabbed for his favourite cucumbers, and 
scrambled by a chain to the roof, in search 
of nuts among the rafters. He was the only 
child of the home, and for a year he had 
lived in contented luxury. 

I never found reason for the quoted cru- 
elty of the Japanese, a people w^ho so ten- 
derly make pets of babies, animals, and flow- 
ers. The children of any nation are bar- 
baric little savages until taught better, and 
one who has seen an American child bite 
viciously into the arm of a baby brother, 
and another young American drop a turtle 
into scalding water, to drive him out of his 
shell, feels that the American has no stones 
to sling in that direction. 

The wood-carver's haunt was a fanciful 
realm, and often I stole up-stairs among the 
rare chests, tables, and boxes, and surprised 
the owner as I descended to his workshop. 
Had he seen me, his politeness would have 
bade him stop all work, and make futile 
attempts at conversation. He showed only 
generous pleasure that I had roamed unbid- 
den among his treasures, and when I made 
love to the hen in her cage, he removed the 
wicker and deposited the hen and her brood 
in my lap. It was not good for the gown 

121 



A Woman Alone 

that mother and chicks should nestle there, 
but he had offered me a tender compliment, 
and I could not refuse the menagerie. The 
guests were not overpolite, and left ruinous 
marks on the gown, as they spattered about 
and pecked for the grain which their master 
had dropped in the folds. Exquisite things 
in dark heavy woods were carved by the 
humble craftsmen, who dug at the hard 
lines with clumsy tools, till the plain pieces 
grew to mighty elephants, or a triplet of 
monkeys, to roses, iris, or lotus. 

The Yankee zeal for bargains had full 
play among these little merchants. " How 
much?" I asked, of a stand with carving of 
a lumbering elephant in a jungle. " Twelve 
yen." " Oh, no, too much." " How much 
you geef, lady? " " Four yen," I said, sport- 
ively. " All right, lady. You haf, go hotel," 
and I found to «my dismay that I had an 
elephant on my hands. Many a time I car- 
ried off cargo which I had never meant to 
buy. The derisive prices, which seemed 
insulting, were accepted with glee, only 
proving what fortunes the canny people 
would make if their first figures were taken. 
A wily Scotchman, who always struck for 
bottom prices, gloated when a sturdy arm- 

122 



In the Heart of Japan 

chair was sent home for seven yen. " It's 
a big bargain noo, a great thing that/' said 
the victorious Scot. I smiled a smile of 
wisdom, for when I had said in passing to 
the shopman, " I give four yen," he had 
gladly answered, '' Take it, lady, take, I send 
hotel." Maliciously I told the story, as it 
was too good to keep, and never would the 
injured Scot rest easy in that costly chair, 
as he thought of three yen gone to glory! 

The box-making industry is an art in a 
land where every box is a treasure to encase 
another treasure. No nation puts up a lunch 
as does the Japanese, in a smooth round box 
embedded with leaves. The condiments are 
in a tower of lesser boxes, united by wooden 
thongs, and the butter, pepper, salt, mustard, 
each has its separate box. 

All sorts and shapes of boxes are turned 
out in the little shops of Nikko, and with 
delight I watched the nimble fingers fly. 
One industrious old man recalled the " an- 
cient arrow-maker " of " Hiawatha," as he 
sat in his door ceaselessly plying his trade, 
working as zealously and as honestly as the 
skilled artist who decorated the valued cloi- 
sonne. He worked behind horn glasses, 
which were held to his ears by loops of 

123 



A JVoman Alone 

string. He fastened the pieces down with 
his toes, and made the boxes in piles of 
halves, using little wooden pegs in place of 
clumsy nails. From a bundle of sticks he 
drew the pieces, and tacked them to the 
squares of cedar, and as the halves grew 
in piles, the bundles of chips diminished. 
The two parts were afterward deftly fitted 
together. This was his patient life, as the 
hours and the days rolled away, to drive the 
wooden pegs, and pound the tiny pieces, and 
polish them to smoothness. He could speak 
no word with me, and only noticed me with 
a kindly nod and smile. Long I sat in the 
doorway, fascinated by the steady growth of 
boxes, whose neatness was my admiration. 
This was a trade for all Japan, minus any 
big factory with whistles and engines and 
endless bands. The dainty boxes that went 
out from the Lilliputian homes would carry 
treasures of art to all the earth. 

What would happen in this fair land, as 
we sat on our lovely lawn or leaf-bowered 
porch, with book or embroidery, if a brown- 
skinned mite from Japan came clapping 
down the street in clogs and kimono, with 
a bright paper parasol in place of hat, her 
hair done in a butterfly bow, if she toddled 

124 



In the Heart of Japan 

up the steps and indicated that she would 
sit down and watch us work? Should we 
welcome her with sweet and gracious smile, 
and make her comfortable with the best we 
had, or should we think her an intruder, call 
the dog, whistle the police, or telephone the 
hurry-up wagon that a loafer was desecrat- 
ing our sanctum? I doubt if we would make 
that unconventional creature welcome, yet 
we think ourselves polite. 

Well I recall the music-lesson of a little 
home. I heard the thin, falsetto voice pip- 
ing within, and drew near to make my poor 
salaam and indicate that I would like to 
listen from the threshold. The housewife, 
with baby strapped on her back, hustled to 
the door and gave me mats. Grandma 
bowed low with sunny smile. From a dark 
corner grandpa saw me, and, bent double 
with age and rheumatism, he crawled along 
and kissed the floor, suffused with hospitable 
grins. Kneeling at the low stand, before the 
music-roll, the children whined and droned, 
as they picked out the song on the squeaky 
samisen. The untiring teacher beat her 
baton, crooned low, repeated and corrected, 
raised the tone when the midgets were ofif 
the key, and steered them through the weary 

125 



A Woman Alone 

monotone of Japanese art, as she wheezed 
her own pitiable notes. They made a mighty 
effort to give me the sweetest lullaby in the 
realm, and show me the refined accomplish- 
ment of a well-to-do home; and when my 
tested nerves could stand no more of shrill 
falsetto, I crept away amid the smiles and 
salaams of the united household. 

In another pigeon-nest on temple hill I 
loved to loiter, surrounded by antiques and 
curios, where the dealers were my friends, 
and I squatted on the mats to gloat on the 
ancient treasures which were unwrapped 
from their silken layers. 

Few tourists found this obscure rookery, 
where the dark-eyed lads in soft silks were 
always at leisure. One youth naively said 
he would like to marry an American lady, 
but they were all too rich! They would not 
like to stay in Japan, and cook in the kitchen. 
His artistic nest was embowered in green, 
with no stick or stone in its curving path. 
Near the arbour was a temple bell, and 
before the door hung a beautiful white 
grouse. When I tried to charm him, he 
proved to be a wooden bird, so true to life 
that he might deceive an Agassiz. Flowers 
and the sacred monkeys were carved above 

126 




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In the Heart of Japan 

the door. Within rested the quiet calm of 
a sanctuary. The little shop seemed posi- 
tively holy. Majestic Buddha in the centre 
flooded the place with peace. On the wall 
hung the big drum, which had beaten many 
a tom-tom to departed ancestors. Opposite 
were shoguns' emblems, beautiful swords 
with ivory sheaths. There were lunch-boxes 
of lacquer wrought in gold, layer after layer, 
connected by cords. I felt like a throned 
god when the little man placed me a mat 
on a lacquer lunch-box. He hardly spoke 
of his stately souvenirs. He loved them all 
and knew their worth. He had ransacked 
the country far north for such trophies, and 
he loved them as if they were his children 
and a part of his life. Tenderly he un- 
wrapped the trifles, as we squatted in the 
dim light. There were teapots chased with 
shoguns' crests, brocaded purses, inlaid 
pipes, wonderful sword-guards, ivories yel- 
low with age, intricate figures carved in a 
solid piece, wrought in microscopic patterns, 
so delicate that only a glass revealed the 
perfection of their workmanship. It was a 
pleasure to touch the treasures, and many 
quiet hours I worshipped at this shrine, and 



127 



A Woman Alone 

the old man delighted in my enthusiasm, 
though he knew I could not buy. 

The Wet Season in Nikko 

Nikko suggested Scotland in its summer 
weeks of rain, but during those thirty days 
of wet weather it was ever beautiful. Gray 
clouds sailed solemnly across the heights, 
and raked the sides, and sifted through the 
green. They dropped down the slopes like 
sheets of melted lead. 

Even the empty-headed nesans felt the 
grandeur of it all. Long hours they sat on 
the porch like statues, and gazed at the gray- 
ness. When they tired of looking, they tried 
a high jump from the steps, and the boys 
shinned the posts. Never was such freedom 
given to hotel waiters. When the electric 
light at the gate went out, one brave maid, 
descended from a samurai, hit the tall pole 
with a billet of wood, and created a tem- 
porary glimmer. When the light failed 
again, this little mistress of the black art hit 
another whack, and laughed to see the elec- 
tricity wink back and answer. The maidens 
had little idea of hard work, and they 
seemed made only to bow low in squads for 

128 




DWARF WAITER AT THE HOTEL NIKKO, A FAVOURITE 

WITH ALL 



In the Heart of Japan 

new arrivals, yet they tugged up-stairs the 
heaviest burdens, breathless and giggling 
with fun. Grumbling is not the heritage 
of those descended from the stoical days of 
hara-kiri, or honourable suicide. 

The proprietor passed the rainy days in 
the office, playing a miniature game of 
checkers. The American thought it a grand 
time to clean house, but such a funny thought 
never struck the little natives. 

By the usual contrariety of methods, rainy 
weather seemed the time for outdoor work; 
and coolie women in blue tights, with the 
omnipresent towel of blue and white about 
the head, went down on hands and knees, to 
" mow the lawn." Five days they knelt and 
worked and gossiped over a piece which a 
good machine would have clipped in fewer 
hours. Living illustrations they were of 
wasted strength. But they were chubby- 
faced and smiling, and gathered a tuft in 
one hand as they snipped it with a rusty 
sickle in the other. 

Weary days the gardener spent in the 
pouring rain, mounted on a ladder, shearing 
the branches. He shaved the beautiful trees 
almost bald, till they had nothing left to 
prove that foliage is green. Thus it is ever 

129 



A Woman Alone 

with the trimmed trees. They are cut and 
pruned till reduced to miniature, as the 
Japanese idea is to spread into fantastic 
forms, or to flatten to an umbrella shape. 
So the pine and the maple and the feathery 
shrub had their aspirations nipped in the 
bud, and were reduced to shoots. A bed 
of Easter lilies, planted in the rain, sprang 
into starry beauty before my window, and 
the idle nesans filled the vases with flowers, 
showing that skill in decoration which has 
made Japan so lovely. 

One can acquire a taste for foreign dishes. 
Bamboo shoots appealed to my palate, and 
macaroni pudding, done up in custard, dis- 
appeared in slippery tubes. Almond taffy 
was too great a test of good manners. Guests 
slipped away with sly handfuls, and vulgarly 
crunched all the evening. The Americans 
looked longingly for ice-cream, which ap- 
peared in cycles. In seasons of plenty we 
had " glace au citron," and " glace a la va- 
nille," which had a suggestion of Huyler. 
It had no fixed date, and the joy would con- 
tinue a week, to be followed by a season of 
famine, when parched lips would hunger 
in vain for " glace." Chickens, old and 
young, were slain by the gross and offered 

130 



In the Heart of Japan 

thrice a day, till it depressed one to think 
of this massacre of the innocents in our 
behalf. 

The Booming Temple Bell 

Not least among Nikko's glories, in the 
heart of the forest, sounds the great bell, and 
every hour its rich tone rings deep in the 
heart of the tourist. With a powerful effort, 
the priest swings the beam toward the 
bronze, and holds it back till the metal has 
ceased to vibrate. Several minutes are re- 
quired to sound the longest hours, and he 
keeps tally with a pile of wooden blocks. 
"Boom!" sounds the bell through the 
woodland, and the dim old forest quivers 
with the peal. It lingers on the air and 
reverberates through the town. The chatter 
of tourists is hushed, and the clatter of meal- 
tide is stilled. A tender smile and a kindly 
glance, flitting from face to face, mark the 
respect and love of the stranger for the dig- 
nified note. Sweetly the sound hangs on the 
air, strong at first, then soft and low it 
floats and pulsates, gently fading, faintly 
dying. The breath is held, and every nerve 
is strained to catch the last wave of the 

131 



A IVoman Alone 

sonorous tone. Again the priest lets fly his 
beam, and, like a man-of-war, the bronze 
strikes out its signal, which again rolls into 
space, and the great bell among the dark 
cryptomeria is stilled for another sixty min- 
utes. 

In sunshine or in shower Nikko is lovely. 
The sombre forests have impressed addi- 
tional dignity on the gentle natives, and the 
beauty of their character is in keeping with 
the harmony around them. And when for 
the last time rikky trundled me down their 
fascinating village street, everybody seemed 
to share my grief in going. Gentle voices 
rang along the way, of brass merchant and 
curio vendor, of the wooden lady and the 
furrier, of the toy-seller, the box and basket 
maker, '' Good-bye, Oksan, come back gen, 
see Nikko nodder time." Small wonder that 
their motto reads, " See Nikko, and die." 

When the woman who wandered and 
rested alone thinks of lovely Nikko, seques- 
tered sepulchre where sleep the dauntless 
shoguns among mighty mountains, protected 
by two hundred guardian Buddhas calmly 
grinning beside the rushing river, blessed by 
the beautiful red bridge sacred to the divine 



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In the Heart of Japan 

emperor, dominated by the sombre cryp- 
tomeria of the darksome forest, there comes 
the vision of that humble village street and 
the kindly w^orkers in the arts and crafts. 



133 



A iVoman Alone 



CHAPTER VII 

SENDAI, MATSUSHIMA, AND IKAO 

The Famous Chests of Sendai 

Ten hours from Tokio the traveller 
reaches Sendai, the largest town of the north, 
with eighty thousand inhabitants. It is noted 
for its tansus, or wonderful Sendai chests, 
covered in beautiful designs, with scrollwork 
of wrought iron, which the tripper rejoices 
to export. There has been a run in late 
years on this lovely souvenir, and it is rap- 
idly rising in value, as the appreciation of 
the tourist is evident, so that one needs to 
barter and haggle if he would have bottom 
prices. Only the resident, well used to the 
native, and posted in values, is able to make 
an easy trade. Though comparatively few 
travellers reach Sendai, each wants one or 
several great chests, which strike to a 
woman's heart, since the top drawer will 

134 



/ 



In the Heart of Japan 

receive a full-length gown unfolded. Other 
drawers are shorter, as a closet runs down 
the side, which contains small drawers with 
especial locks. Every corner is a work of 
art, and every lock likewise, finished in 
graceful coils and spreading fans. The 
handles are iron pieces, which pull up, at 
the very top. As a buffet for silver pieces, 
or packed with choice linen, in bedroom or 
dining-room, this noble bit of furniture is 
the housewife's pride. It contrasts grandly 
with the mysterious chest of Korea, the glory 
of that land, which is finished in solid brass, 
much of it, but perfectly plain. 

The hunter for chests has not yet used the 
foreigner's prerogative to spoil a town, and 
Sendai is very native, unspoiled by the tour- 
ist, though it boasts a semi-European hotel. 
The host was newly married, and spent all 
his time on the mats of his speckless floor, 
making love to his pretty bride. It was 
difficult to find him, and it seemed sad to 
interrupt him, when found, for the practical 
matters of business, which are usually dear 
to the native. He appeared to resent intru- 
sion, and disregard cash accounts, though, 
when I left, he rushed up frantically at the 
station, and breathed in my ear the sepul- 

135 



A Woman Alone 

chral notice which he had forgotten, 
" Eighty sen, please, for the sandwiches of 
your lunch." He apparently had great fear 
of mortifying me in presence of my com- 
panion, but " we two " had a merry laugh 
over the narrow escape with the lunch. 

The little man had trotted all over town 
with me in search of a proper chest, and, 
once torn away from his bride, he seemed 
delighted with his errand, and I suspect 
drew a fine commission, as my price was not 
on the " ground floor." I talked with him 
on matters marital, and was interested in 
his adoration of the little lady, and he was 
very sure that his joy would last and his 
delight be ever fresh, " that he would never 
leave her nor forsake her." " All the world 
loves a lover," and his naivete regarding his 
affections was most charming. 

A Chance Acquaintance 

The house had a large dining-room, which 
was the resort of the swell Japanese for clubs 
and banquets. Every foreigner dined alone, 
and was allowed chair and table in the nest 
that opened by screens to the gallery that 
looked off on the picturesque garden. One 

136 



In the Heart of Japan 

never had the same room twice in succession, 
but was switched on behind another screen. 
A gloomy forbidding man, behind specta- 
cles, with a heavy mop of hair, was soberly 
reading as I plunged into his presence and 
backed out, excusing the interruption, as I 
was not sure of my room. He dropped his 
book with relief. '' An interruption is a 
godsend in this lonely place. I only read 
in self-defence. Let us shove back the screen 
and be sociable." After that we always 
planned a companionable meal-tide. Thus 
are the barriers of conventionality burned 
away when the traveller is far from home. 
He proved a wide-awake insurance man, 
with all the rich experience of that class. 
He had resented the stalwart prices of our 
European house, and roomed at the native 
inn, where commodities were few, but amus- 
ing geishas plentiful I 

Waiting in the Rain 

Sendai is the stepping-stone to Matsushima, 
one of the three famed beauty-spots of Japan, 
and here I waited to make the trip, in the 
dreariest rain that ever tumbled from the 
sky. Nowhere, except in Southern Cali- 

137 



A Woman Alone 

fornia, had I ever seen it rain so hard; and 
the insurance man declared it had done noth- 
ing else for ten days. 

The European part of the hotel consisted 
of three desolate rooms, with the barest 
essentials, and here I must sit all day and 
watch the pitiless pour and the little men 
running about in straw coats. 

The native editor who called to interview 
me was a joy. I catechized him breathlessly, 
and he replied politely, and at the close 
remarked, " Madame, you have not told 
me very much." " But I have answered all 
your questions," I said, smiling to think that 
he had had no time to put a question. 

Here, too, I met the little English educa- 
tor who had raised a storm in Tokio by the 
assertion, " The Americans neither write nor 
speak the English language correctly." There 
is no doubt that many of us are careless, but, 
if we deserve her sweeping criticism, let us 
speedily improve. For the good of our 
country, let us be careful. The natives are 
most receptive to new ideas, and the censure 
worked much harm to our teachers, who 
were making a bread-and-butter struggle in 
the capital by their English. Immediately 
the Britisher was in demand, and the Ameri- 

138 



In the Heart of Japan 

can teacher lost caste and lost work. The 
natives wanted the best, and were suspicious 
of our powers. 

To the observant traveller, every incident 
is a clue to national character. The storm 
got on the nerves of the Sendai rats, and 
they played mad havoc in the night. They 
charged through the hall, and they raced and 
rattled and scratched in the ceiling. They 
were considerate not to fall through, as 
morning revealed holes a foot long above. 
The boy solemnly promised to put in re- 
pairs, and a little later the holes were all 
neatly covered with white paper. Strong 
preventive against rats! 

My pitcher was without handle, and one 
day it slipped from my hands and lay in 
magnificent ruins at my feet, while a gallon 
of water flooded the room. I sounded a 
troubled note on the one public bell in the 
hall, as every towel had been taken, and 
I feared for the ceiling of the banquet-room 
below. Boys and maidens rushed to my 
room, and, to my wild demands, " Towels, 
quick: towels, pick up water, everybody 
wet," they doubled up in roars of laughter, 
while I stood helpless in the swamp. 



139 



A Woman Alone 
Matsushima the Lovely 

With the first rift in the clouds, I hurried 
to famed Matsushima, an island in the deep 
blue, surrounded by archipelagoes, known 
for its eternal hills, its temple-caves, and 
idols of the past, its tea-houses, gardens, and 
geisha girls of the present. This is the only 
spot in the empire where the solid bamboo 
is found, and it is sold extensively in seals 
of grotesque carvings of the idols in the 
gloomy caves. 

From the tallest peak one looks down on 
a ravishing view which might well be that 
of Lake Winnipesaukee and its dotted isles. 
Certainly it is the twin of that New Hamp- 
shire nook, and no lover of the beautiful in 
nature, who has time for pleasure, should 
omit seeing this far-away spot. 

A Night Ride on the Train 

I always pity the poor rich, who can only 
afford to travel first class and stop at the 
best hotels, for they never know the fun they 
miss. Only the tenderfoot — distressed at 
rubbing shoulders with the native whom 



140 



In the Heart of Japan 

he says he has come to see — and the very 
swellest Japanese travel first class. 

The insurance man had wound up affairs, 
and seemed a serviceable chaperon on the 
night trip back to Tokio. In a smart-Aleck 
style, he took things leisurely, would not 
hurry. '* There is plenty of time. Don't 
rush," he said, and consequently we sat up 
all night. The incident was a very fair 
sample of the trials which come from ac- 
cepting a chum. 

There was no sleeper on the train, and 
only one first-class car, a square box, where 
two could stretch out at full length on each 
side and one at the rear end. I was the only 
woman, and, as we entered, four natives, 
lost in snores and blankets, were camped at 
full length for the night, which left one 
space for the two foreigners, who must sit 
upright. Inventory of our neighbours 
proved them most elegant passengers, and 
we resolved to be wary of our English, 
which they would surely understand when 
they escaped from Morpheus, and we highly 
suspected some snoring to be a fake, to be- 
tray the unwily. 

The insurance man was positive that the 



141 



A Woman Alone 

old chap opposite, deep in silk pillows and 
soft wraps, was a Cabinet minister. 

We wiled away the dark hours with jokes 
and stories, the joy of the Orient, and with 
lunch and sodas, the need of the traveller; 
but men never bear their travel trials lightly, 
and before morning my comrade had grown 
weary and depressed. He " missed his bath 
and shave," he said. I missed a great many 
things. About eight o'clock the antics of the 
Cabinet minister lifted the gathering gloom. 
He called his valet, tumbled out of his 
blankets, stood in the aisle immediately be- 
fore me, deliberately dropped off his trousers, 
and shot into another and a better pair I 
Such is the simplicity of the native. Even 
the cross Englishman laughed. 

Ikao the Wonderful 

Probably not five in every hundred of the 
travelling public ever reach wonderful Ikao, 
the very heart of quaint Japan, centre of 
beauty and seat of loveliness, ringing with 
joyous bird notes in June, radiant with field 
flowers in July, populated with old nobility 
in August. If September shows a diminu- 
tion of each charm, it has a combination 

142 



In the Heart of Japan 

of them all, with the added glory of the fire 
and flame of sumac and maple on the dis- 
tant hills. 

Four hours by rail from Tokio, through 
a country given to rice farms, land the wan- 
derer at the bustling native town of Mae- 
bashi, where a dilapidated horse-tram rat- 
tles one away for nearly two hours to the 
end of civilization, and a rik with two stal- 
wart runners then bowls one for two hours 
more over the highways and hidden ways 
and mountain passes, through glens and 
divides and over the ridges, among sounds 
that are clear and smells that are sweet with 
the woodland. By a final swift spurt, the 
men dash into the clean courtyard of the 
Kindayu hotel, where life will be a joysome 
holiday. 

An Ideal Hostess and a Cosy Inn 

Madame Kindayu is a wonderful woman 
and an ideal hostess. She is sufficiently Eu- 
ropeanized to let her guests walk in foreign 
shoes over her speckless carpet. Her clear 
voice rings out in a sweet and fluent English 
which might shame many a foreigner who 
is famed for harsh tone and ugly jargon. 

143 



A Woman Alone 

Oksan has five little Japanese babies, whom 
she dearly loves and carefully tends. She 
runs a native department of three hundred 
noble guests, she cares for all the foreign 
visitors, directs their steps, answers their 
senseless questions, gives advice and informa- 
tion regarding the country, and never is 
frown or flurry seen on her kindly face. Al- 
ways she is dignified, gentle, and affable, the 
embodiment of gracious tact and courtesy. 
Her husband is the city mayor, that is, the 
chief man in the village, and most anxious 
that all shall redound to its credit. 

The foreigner has foreign food, and does 
not suffer from chow and chop-sticks, and 
the delight of the native rooms is their 
charming simplicity, for the traveller worn 
out with the worries of life in the city. 
Nothing is cramped or crowded in a Jap- 
anese home. The gewgaws and kickshaws 
which we pile up in space would be the 
height of bad taste to these people of ex- 
quisite ways. Bed and chair and table are 
concessions to our way of living, but one 
needs little else who can look off from the 
dainty den across sweeping fields to rolling 
hills. 

Things were semi-primitive at the inn. 

144 



In the Heart of Japan 

A Watson whiskey bottle served as candle- 
stick, a pickle bottle of Father Heinze — 
fifty-seven varieties — stood for carafe, and 
the pegs were corks run through with nails. 
The little rooms were built to fit the mat- 
ting, which is always of exact dimensions in 
Japan. 

Mr. Kindayu had not the fluent English 
of his wife, but he had a kindly heart, and 
he did his best. " Theez eez your seeting- 
room," he said, as I glanced at the dainty 
quarters, in whose recess stood a single beau- 
tiful ornament, behind which hung an artistic 
kakemono, or Japanese scroll. Doubtless 
there were many more lovely things hidden 
in the go-down, and when the family tired 
of looking at these, they would be exchanged 
for other hid treasure. Everybody had two 
rooms, and painted screens shut off the bed- 
room, while rice screens, or Shoji, separated 
the private alley, and solid amados at night 
shut out the green valley and the rugged 
hills. 

I had dropped between the spotless sheets, 
when the city mayor appeared on the thresh- 
old, dramatically waving his wings and cry- 
ing, " Varee dangroos, varee dangroos.'' 
"Where is it? I don't see it," I cried. 

145 



A Woman Alone 

"Thieves, thieves," he added, as he closed 
down the boards which gave to the lean-to 
that looked out on the street. Evidently the 
country was not so innocent as I thought. 
The next night Boots followed me to my 
den, pouring out the same cry, as he insisted 
that I lock up my heavy door which led to 
the alley, and he spiked it with a ring and 
staple that reminded me of the Middle Ages, 
with prisoners chained to the wall. 

Boots appeared in the morning, frantically 
waving a shoe in each hand, and shouting, 
" You did bring ink, you have got ink, ink 
for your shoes? " " No, I did not bring any 
ink for my shoes. Do the best you can, but 
don't paint them red," I pleaded. Evidently 
he gave them a violent rubbing, as the 
leather returned much worn and as if it had 
been trying a mud bath. 

Table linen would have been very tempt- 
ing had Mr. Kindayu known how to handle 
a foreign coffee-pot. He was unskilled in 
serving, and spilled the beverage at every 
meal, till the cloth seemed diagramed like 
a railroad map. 



146 



In the Heart of Japan 

The Hot Springs 

Hot springs are the safety-valve of this 
wild volcanic region. They are hissing in 
the woodland, tumbling over the rocks, and 
roaring down the hillside. They dash in 
torrents through the forests and sound like 
a raging storm. Sometimes they leave an 
inky pool, and again they throw vapourous 
jets. Iron and soda are plentiful, and the 
baths of Kindayu are only mild. Sir Brooks 
Boothby, attache of the British legation, 
created amusement among his hearers by 
querulously calling to the boy, " Make the 
water more hot. By, by, it is only warm, 
make it hotter," quite ignoring the fact that 
the only steam heat which we had was gen- 
erated within the earth, and we were subject 
to the temperature which Mother Nature 
gave out. 

Ikao looks like old Naples, sliding down- 
hill, minus the water, and with the added 
element of cleanliness. Its one main street 
is steep and straight, running very high, and 
lined on each side with shacks which nearly 
overlap, while its steps are rough and ragged 
rocks. Here are the tiny shops and go-downs 
with native wares. Ikao makes simple toys 

147 



A Woman Alone 

and very ingenious balls within balls, and 
wheels within wheels. It sells games that 
are the distraction of the stupid, and carv- 
ings that are quaint and odd, though they 
have none of the intricate design and high 
polish which one sees at Nikko. Cross-cuts 
and alleys from every quarter of the town 
lead to this main street, and no one could 
be so desperately lost but that he would 
come out at some time on this chief alley. 
Through a threadwork of lanes rise the na- 
tive inns, in tier after tier, on the mossy 
slopes of the town. 

The Iron-cloth of Ikao 

Nowhere in the empire, outside of the 
little shops of Ikao, does one find the famous 
iron-cloth dear to the native who has im- 
plicit faith in its healing power. A strong 
precipitate of iron is in the bed of the 
streams, and the natives crawl over the rocks 
to gather the deposit, or they spread their 
garments on the bed of the brooks to stain 
them with the mineral. At Maebashi, a 
few miles distant, the cloth is fabricated in 
large quantities, and brought up to the vil- 
lage to lie in the go-downs till it is needed 

148 



In the Heart of Japan 

on the counters. Often it is printed with 
fish or fowl. 

Over gout and rheumatism and kindred 
troubles, it is thought to have great power. 
Prospective mothers wear it in heavy bands 
about the body, as it is supposed to give 
great strength to mother and child. This is 
its crowning glory in the mind of the native, 
and this is its chief advertising value. So 
the native explained with all the naturalness 
of the simplest matter, using the merchant's 
best plea for a sale, ^' If the honourable 
lady-san want an honourable little baby-san, 
she wear this yellow cloth." What statement 
could be more true-hearted! A baby is the 
greatest joy of the native. He would never 
suspect that an American lady would not 
want one. Truly the simple philosophy of 
the native often puts the conventional for- 
eigner to the blush. 

The Japanese Mother 

The Japanese women do not have clubs, 
and therefore they have babies. By natural 
logic, a woman does not have time for both. 
No false prudery has debased natural law 
among these simple people. They speak 

149 



A IVoman Alone 

readily and easily of coming events which 
are dear to their hearts. If life is empty, 
they always live in hope. " Me no tink 
mooch trouble, my wife no mind care, she 
varee mooch hope leetle baby sometime," is 
the general sentiment in Japan. Maternal 
love has not been killed by outside duties. 
Every woman's heart is open to her share of 
babyhood, and every wife is disappointed if 
the baby does not appear. Her baby goes 
everywhere that she goes, whether it be to 
the temple or to the theatre, to the market 
or to the store. She attends no meetings 
where the baby would be a nuisance. A 
father works in the field with the baby 
strapped on his back. Old and young are 
indulgent to the newest baby, and there is 
often a long line. Very young sisters bear 
the burden on the back, and never question 
the propriety, nor expect anything else, and 
the last baby is carried long after he is well 
able to walk. 

The Saratoga of Japan 

Ikao is the Saratoga of Japan, the mid- 
summer centre of the old nobility. Here 
one gets the best, perhaps the only glimpse 

150 



In the Heart of Japan 

of the high-bred families, the crested people, 
who descended from the fine old daimios, 
that were wont to march through the land 
with scores of thousands of retainers in royal 
procession, the brave two-sworded samurai, 
ready to live or die for their masters. Those 
impressive pageants were a half-century 
back, before the guns of Commodore Perry 
had thundered in the harbour, demanding 
an open port in the foreign land. One sees 
to-day the regal etiquette and gracious cour- 
tesy which are synonyms for the gentle-born 
and highly bred in the land. Lordly men 
and courtly ladies troop through the leafy 
glens to Yumoto, " Source of the hot 
springs," where long dippers are chained, 
and where they carry their drinking-cups 
to wile away the hours with laughter, and 
talk on the benches as they drink the life- 
giving iron. Voices are soft and sweet, man- 
ners are kind and gentle, and the attitude is 
one of deference to one's neighbour and 
efifacement of self. Here are the elegant 
toilets of the gentry, soft dark silks of 
lustrous sheen and heavy texture, but never 
gaudy colour. The quality is rich, and the 
knot in the obi is artistic, and each crest 
denotes the special family. In to-day's pro- 

151 



A IVoman Alone 

cession is merely a hint of the culture of the 
palmy past. We may shut our eyes and 
think of the ancestral dignity, the staid de- 
meanour, the paraphernalia and retinue 
worthy of Oriental kings. 

Etiquette to-day is rigidly marked among 
the blue-bloods of Japan. If two noble 
ladies of the same rank meet, both lower 
their parasols, and stand exposed to the sun, 
while all the servants do the same. If one 
lady be of higher rank, the lady of lower 
rank closes her parasol, and all the retain- 
ers do likewise, while the lady of higher 
rank remains protected from the sun. 

By night Ikao's highway made fantastic 
showing. Gnarled roots were drenched in 
oil, and hung from the trees in wire cages, 
and their light was weird and uncertain, as 
it flickered and flared along the road. Here 
the imperial postman trotted along by our 
side, and made wild efforts to talk. Here 
I ate roasted snake in the fitful glare of the 
torches, and could taste nothing but charcoal. 
Another snake of more venomous nature, 
warranted to cure all human diseases, was 
preserved in alcohol, but I preferred to take 
his' medicinal merits on faith. 



152 



In the Heart of Japan 

A Shinto Shrine 

Down the valley stands an old Shinto 
shrine, said to date back two thousand years. 
If it did not stand in the days of Jesus of 
Nazareth, at least it has for many centuries 
been sacred to Inari. It is approached 
through fifty red torii, or arches, and, from 
far and near, it is the Mecca of faithful pil- 
grims who come for help and healing. The 
cat and the snake are among the animals 
which receive homage in Japan, and to Rey- 
nard, the wily fox, the superstitious natives 
bow. There is doubt about the gender, but 
Inari, god or goddess, prevails over the rice- 
fields, and must not be confused with Itnari, 
in the south, famous for a certain china. 

Inari has power to make the harvest fat 
or lean in the rice-fields. The red fox par- 
ticularly must be cajoled, so red torii are 
raised to him in prayer and praise. Ikao's 
shrine is crowded with scores of fox images, 
large and small. He presides in grave dig- 
nity, as if his name were never known for 
trickery and stealth. When the suppliant 
tinkles the temple bell, Reynard's messenger 
runs with the prayer to the great Inari sama. 
Offerings innumerable have been brought to 

'153 



A Woman Alone 

the altar, and the walls are hung with votive 
gifts, in memory of answered prayers. 

For many years a wise old sorceress, at- 
tached to the shrine, has been revered 
throughout the realm, as she guarded the 
temple and studied the stars. Her fame in 
the black art brings the suffering from all 
parts. She certainly has skill in jugglery, 
in necromancy. Patiently she hears the tale 
of woe. She shakes her box of sticks, and 
out tumbles a certain number which must 
be found in her sage's book, where she reads 
the fate and fortune of the anxious inquirer, 
who goes away sure that the old dame's word 
is a law which one cannot escape. Her face 
is strong and kind, and she, too, has absolute 
faith in her clairvoyance and in the answer 
of the stars. Wiser folks in distant lands 
have talked of solar-astro-biology. Her 
cures have been marvellous, and her hold 
on the peasant world has long been firm. 
Perhaps she is an instance of mind over 
mind, the stronger prevailing over the weak. 
With her is the right of succession, and she 
has appointed her son as rightful heir to 
her glory when her day is over. 



154 



In the Heart of Japan 



CHAPTER VIII 

AN INLAND TRIP 

Preparations for the Trip 

If few tourists see Ikao, whose leafy 
groves and flowering fields are girt about 
by rugged mountains, seldom does the trot- 
ter burrow farther inland and penetrate to 
the wild mountain fastness, the centre of the 
boiling sulphur springs, seat of invalidism, 
and Mecca of the sufferer. It had long been 
the goal of my travels, a dream and ambition 
which were difficult of accomplishment, 
since obstacles there were many, hardships 
numerous, and companions none. But with 
the rising difficulties came increased desire. 
"Interesting! Wildly so, if you can stand 
the terrible sights, but I could not endure 
them myself," said the experienced friend. 
A jaunt of seventy-five miles by riksha to 
the interior, through mountain passes and 

155 



A Woman Alone 

bamboo jungles, over ridges and down steep 
slopes, is bound to have its stern discomforts. 
But once off the beaten track, the tripper, 
hunting for experiences, soon learns to dis- 
card the comforts of home, and to take 
troubles lightly. Only the sick, seeking heroic 
cure, and the venturesome would find any 
reason for the trip. The luxurious and the 
lackadaisical keep to the big cities and the 
large hotels, run on foreign plan, smacking 
more of home than of the Orient. 

Wandering one day in the precincts of 
Kindayu, I came upon a dapper little dude, 
who might be a prince of the realm, arrayed 
in knickerbockers, boiled shirt, and diamond 
stud, riding a white pony. He was most 
affable to the stranger, and glad to air his 
smooth English, so he announced : " I am 
the proprietor of the Ikao house, next door. 
I am Mr. Kindayu's brother-in-law. I mar- 
ried his sister. He gave me the hotel, wed- 
ding present, Japanese custom." 

Evidently he was a proud addition to the 
Kindayu circle. He took great interest in 
my ambition for the inland trip, but added: 
" The people who come here never have the 
courage to go farther. Unless they are mis- 
sionaries, they think this is the very centre 

156 



In the Heart of Japan 

of Japan." He knew exactly the man to 
guide me, — a trusty old retainer, honest and 
kind, who knew every foot of the country, 
was a good cook and spoke a little English I 

My heart beat high with hope. This 
paragon of virtues seemed the prize-package 
in a lottery, and I blessed the master of the 
Ikao house. How could I secure the worthy 
guide? He was a servant at the Ikao. 
Oksan Kindayu might not like to have me 
take him. Family complications were in 
sight, and I must not strain peaceful rela- 
tions. 

I resolved to finesse a little with Oksan 
Kindayu, who had been most kindly toward 
my interests. I asked her if she knew a cer- 
tain man, Heihachee, famed throughout the 
countryside? I had heard him spoken of, 
and could she find him for me? Oksan tum- 
bled into the trap. Oh, yes, she knew Hei- 
hachee. He was not busy now, and she 
would find him for me. 

The next morning, he salaamed before me 
in the breakfast-room. To see him was to 
trust him. His tawny, wrinkled face be- 
spoke fidelity and honour. He was a hardy 
mountaineer, and a veritable Fidus Achates, 
who would be true to his charge, and lay 

157 



A Woman Alone 

down his life if needful, like the old retain- 
ers. More than fifty years he had weathered 
the seasons of Ikao. His pyramidal head 
suggested Shakespeare. His broad smile 
and kindly eyes were full of friendship. His 
rugged frame was bent with the battles of 
life, and he had been scarred in the strug- 
gles, but he had not lost the gentle demean- 
our of the unspoiled native. His abbrevi- 
ated tights were cut off on the thighs. One 
knee was circled with court-plaster, and one 
big toe was heavily bandaged. He sucked 
in a ponderous breath to show respect, as he 
doubled like a jack-knife, and said: "Me 
Heihachee. Me go. Oksan like Japanese 
chow? " No, Oksan did not like Japanese 
chow even a little bit. He threw back his 
classic head, emitted a merry roar, and was 
off. His aide was a stalwart young fellow, 
and I knew that I was very lucky in my 
retinue. 

A Rough Ride 

The mountain road was rough and wild 
enough to dismay the stoutest heart. Recent 
heavy rains had gullied out the passes, loose 
rocks rolled down the defiles, boulders had 

158 



In the Heart of Japan 

tumbled across the way. Muck and mire 
made a paste through the forest. But no 
obstacles daunted the sturdy men. They 
were wont to conquer. Sometimes they acted 
as pushman and pullman, at other times they 
ran in tandem. Often they lifted the rik 
bodily out of the ruts, and carried it apace. 
Frequently I alighted and trudged afoot, 
when I saw the muscles strain and the per- 
spiration run in rivers from the tawny skin. 
Where the way was almost perpendicular, 
old Fidelity would say, " Pleeze getty down, 
leetle walky, moochee uppee." Where the 
freshet had washed away the bridge in a 
wild mountain region, rik and men and pas- 
senger were packed away in a primitive 
sampan, and ferried across by rope and 
pulley, that we might not be carried down 
the raging stream. 

At noon we took a nap and refreshments 
at a roadside tea-house. After the midday 
heat, we trundled on till five P. M., and rat- 
tled up to Hagiwara's inn. The gentleman 
was fat, fair, and forty, with a retinue of 
kindly servants and jolly children. The 
place was not a village, not even a hamlet, 
but a clump of houses high on a cliff among 
the bushes, and quite suggestive of the Bib- 

159 



A Woman Alone 

lical " ram caught in a thicket." A stout 
aristocrat next door held an elaborate tea 
service, and departed. I seemed to be the 
only remaining patron, and a suite of three 
rooms was at my disposal. The entire fam- 
ily thought themselves worthy to untie the 
latchet of my shoes, and then I pattered 
across the sacred threshold. 

Heihachee the Guide 

Early in the day Heihachee handed me 
a mysterious document, saying, solemnly, 
" Master, Ikao house." I found within the 
sealed packet a crudely drawn sketch of the 
road we must travel, with all stop-overs 
indicated, and a letter of presentation to the 
affable Hagiwara. Surely one could not 
expect more generosity from a rival pro- 
prietor, who never expected to see me again. 
When I called to thank him, after the re- 
turn, the foreign gentleman had been meta- 
morphosed, and a native proprietor sat 
behind his counter, comfortably arrayed in 
loose kimono. 

Soon after our arrival, Heihachee disap- 
peared, to return in flowing robe with crest, 
and bringing a " name-card," like any noble 

1 60 



In the Heart of Japan 

guest, and as if he did not expect recogni- 
tion in his party gown. He inspired heavily, 
and began a mighty speech, which struck 
terror to his patron's heart. " Me Hei- 
hachee, good guide, me go far way all over 
mountains, very bad roads, Eeenglesch, Mer- 
ican genelmen." 

** What, HeihacheeP' I exclaimed, in des- 
pair, " you go away with English American 
gentlemen, and leave me here to fight my 
way through the woods! You can't do it. 
You promised to stay with me, and you must 
see me through. Bring up the gentlemen 
and we will settle this." 

He tossed back his head with a laugh 
and ran away, while I was left guessing as 
to the doleful situation. Then I learned how 
mean a thing it is to be suspicious, and how 
often we misjudge the native who has only 
our kindly interest at heart. Noble, faith- 
ful old Heihachee! How cruelly and bru- 
tally I had suspected him! He was simple- 
hearted as a child, and had only the child's 
natural desire to stand well in my esteem 
and to impress me with his record. He 
returned with a stack of credentials, which 
told of his services, how he was tried and 
trusted and had proved true, how he was 

i6i 



A IVoman Alone 

able and intelligent, though I was glad, for 
the truth of the testimonials, that they made 
little reference to his English or his cook- 
ing! These certainly were weak points, not 
greatly to be praised by the best judges, and, 
luckily, they were not essentials to bringing 
us through the woods. Among his valued 
papers, I found this doggerel: 

" If you're in want of a man, 
You may search through this Ian', 
An' I trow that right weary you'll be, 
Ere you're likely to find 
One more to your mind 
Than Kaidzu Heihachee." 

He performed with the dignity and solem- 
nity of an old Roman Senator in control 
of the empire, and he went through his pro- 
gramme, marking off on his fingers the bill 
of fare. " Mornin', Oksan. Wat you haf ? 
Omlet, bifstek, 'am an' eggs, table bote." 
This was his notion of a French cuisine, 
this was his menu, and no chef in white 
cap could have been more serious. We had 
brought loaves of bread and tins of butter, 
a frying-pan and Indian meal, and he per- 
formed indigestible wonders over the em- 
bers. Fish could be had from the moun- 

162 



In the Heart of Japan 

tain brooks, and eggs from any cackling 
hennery. He cooked omelet to the queen's 
taste, and when the boiled eggs were like 
bullets, and I tried to bolt them down, he 
moaned and groaned in pitiful sorrow, say- 
ing, *' Oh, too bad, too bad, no can eat, all 
cook, arf hard, poor leetle fire." The rocky 
eggs were far more than half-hard, and, with 
an effort, I practised Japanese heroism. 

Hagiwara's Inn 

Hagiwara's bath-boy was a whole institu- 
tion in himself. His English was in a very 
minor key, and he wore a dictionary, which 
he considered standard, in his gown. This 
he fished out and presented when pantomime 
was insufficient, and so we came to an under- 
standing regarding the essentials, of " can- 
dles — matches — bath." The bath was a 
" Sabbath day's journey " through courtways 
and corridors, under the open, down several 
flights of stairs, past tiers of lodgings where 
people wxre packed as in caves and boxes, 
to the far-away room, with its great vat sunk 
in the floor, where the strong sulphur came 
rolling in hot from the hills. 

Here the boy prepared to undress me. He 

163 



A Woman Alone 

expected to administer the bath. I was tired 
with heat and jolting, every bone and mus- 
cle ached from the hard trip. A massage 
would have been acceptable, and the tempta- 
tion was great; but I was still hedged about 
by queer and unnatural conventionality, and 
I pointed to the door. What would they 
think in proper America if I were washed 
and rubbed by a strange lad! O shades of 
the proprieties, and slanderous tones of Mrs. 
Grundy! And yet, every native woman was 
used to being scrubbed and rubbed, and the 
boy did not understand how the lady in the 
white skin could do away with his serv- 
ices. 

Then followed the deep mystery of bed- 
making. The traveller who is unwilling to 
be thoroughly native should carry his own 
linen to the interior, as he will find no other, 
and it is sad to wake in the night and won- 
der what wretched leper may have slept 
last in those futans. One is sure to wake, 
since the natives plunge into revelry at all 
hours, and the wicked flea makes an active 
campaign with the tenderfoot. His bite does 
not bother, it leaves no venom in the veins, 
but his antics are ticklish, and when an army 
of fleas take one's spine for a race-course, 

164 



In the Heart of Japan 

and play tag on one's body, insanity would 
be a natural result. 

Old Fidelity ordered in the thick futans, 
or wadded quilts, piled many deep. He 
placed a barrel for a pillow, which I 
promptly kicked to the wall. That was not 
his gentle way of doing, and he wore a re- 
proachful look, as he folded a futan in its 
place. He added a towel for a half-length, 
as concession to my strange foreign needs, 
and his piece de resistance, which stood for 
top sheet, top quilt, and counterpane, was 
a huge ancestral overcoat, with velvet collar 
and cuffs that were vast; an army of natives 
might have snuggled in the folds. I re- 
solved not to snuggle in it at all, and dragged 
it to the foot, where the futans were minus, 
greatly to Heihachee's distress. 

My experience with the Sendai rat had 
made me dread the beast, and I pointed 
gloomily to holes in the wall, and expressed 
my fear. The boy brought out his diction- 
ary, and I hunted for ^^ rats." He sadly 
answered, " No, no haf got, rats, no rats," 
in the melancholy tone of the disappointed 
shopkeeper, and I expected him to add with 
the shopkeeper's usual hope, '* will haf to- 



165 



A JVoman Alone 

morrow." In Japan, "to-morrow" ranks 
with the " mafiana " in Spain. 

Kusatsu, the Mecca for Sufferers 

Heihachee always was one better than his 
word. He had promised to reach our goal 
on the second day at 2 P.M., and at 12.30 
we bowled into the village square of famed 
Kusatsu, where the waters roared and raged 
as they tore from the earth, where the fumes 
were thick in the air, and the odour of sul- 
phur could not be escaped. Women were 
washing at a large public trough. The min- 
eral was deposited, and precipitated in large 
crystals, which made a bright lining to the 
tanks, and was scraped off and sold at the 
booths as souvenirs, both in flour and lump. 
Bath-houses growled with their angry waters, 
and clouds of smoke vomited out on the air. 
Native inns of dark, seasoned wood made 
the village centre, and their beautiful carv- 
ings of stork or dragon or wide-spread fan 
upon the gables could be found in this cen- 
tre of the empire only, and were renowned 
throughout the land, as were the boiling 
waters. Beams and buttresses all bore the 
artist's touch. 

166 



In the Heart of Japan 

An Hour of Agony 

A trumpet sounded a semi-military note. 
The deserted village square became alive. 
The doors slid back in their grooves, and 
from all the inns crawled forth the lame, 
the halt, the decrepit, those who could barely 
move, and those who were less disabled. 
For many of them the ravages of disease 
had made life agony. Their long sleeves 
floated through the square, and one caught 
a glimpse of waving towels and long-handled 
dippers. 

The doors of all the bath-houses closed 
again behind the bathers, and for nearly an 
hour there resounded through the village 
the short, sharp, decisive bang, like an ex- 
plosive, like a repeating pistol, while in 
every house was a scene unparalleled 
throughout the world, as fifty naked men 
were sweating away disease in the hardest 
kind of work. 

Each held a stout plank about four feet 
long and one foot wide, and, bending over 
the water, he leaned the plank on the edge 
and churned persistently back and forth, 
back and forth, to mitigate the terrible heat 
of the mineral waters. At a tinkle of the 

167 



A JVoman Alone 

master's bell, each man put aside his board, 
bound a cloth about his head, and, kneeling, 
poured two hundred and fifty dippers of 
water on neck and head to prevent conges- 
tion. Inured as the native is to extreme heat 
in the bath, no man could enter here with- 
out precaution and prevision. 

With the hope that there had been some 
slight abatement of the terrible heat, the 
master sounded another note, and the victims 
took their courage in both hands for the final 
plunge into the seething caldron. It seemed 
like dropping into the jaws of hell, as the 
steaming waters gurgled up around them. 
During the beating I thought of the " anvil 
chorus," as they sang a wild paean to cheer 
their spirits. A pall fell on them, like the 
silence of death, when they entered the vats. 
Down, down, they slid into the scorching 
pool. Not a sigh escaped them, not a moan 
nor a groan, at heat which would have made 
us shriek with pain, as the waters swept 
about the ankles, rolled over the knee, up 
the thigh, around the waist, across the chest, 
under the armpit, and rose to the neck, where 
the invalids crouched submerged, with only 
the head above water. 

A few suffering women were here also, 

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In the Heart of Japan 

bearing the test with the same sturdy hero- 
ism. Occasionally a tightening of the facial 
muscles, or a catching of the breath, showed 
how great was their control, as they waited 
in the torturing water. It was a strange 
scene, of fifty heads above the surface, in 
that silent, gloomy room. At the end of 
each half-minute the master uttered a thin, 
piping sentence in high falsetto, to say what 
time had passed, how much remained, and 
to encourage their patience. To each re- 
mark all responded with a wild, maniacal 
whoop of desperation. Seldom does such an 
agonized wail rise from fifty suffering men, 
and the stoical silence came again, as in a 
tomb. 

At the close of five minutes, the master 
gave his last nasal chant, and, with a final 
cry of agony, the bathers leaped from the 
mad waters, which were loath to give up 
their prey. From all corners came a storm, 
as of huge snowflakes, when the little nesans 
hurled towels and cotton through the air, 
and gently rubbed off the parboiled bodies. 

Not once, but five times a day, beginning 
soon after sunrise, the trumpet calls its semi- 
military note for these five minutes of an- 
guish, and one hundred and twenty baths, 

169 



A JVoman Alone 

covering a month, are expected to effect a 
cure of stubborn diseases. Not only gout 
and rheumatism bring many victims here, 
but the most terrible skin maladies are ap- 
parent. The water, running in from the 
hillside, so terribly hot and so impregnated 
with sulphur, passes rapidly down-stream, 
and thus is constantly changed, and the min- 
eral destroys all germs, so that no contagion 
is feared from the community bath. The 
follies of youth, the madness of intermar- 
riage, the sin of wild oats, are frightfully 
in evidence at the baths. Arms and legs are 
raw with ugly sores. Knees and armpits 
are eaten away by vile disease, the flesh is 
putrid and laid bare. These most afflicted 
parts are swathed in folds of soft cotton 
before and after entering the bath, as even 
the brave Japanese could not submit the 
open flesh and the exposed nerves to this 
awful heat. 

The he per Village 

A half-mile down tEe stream is the leper 
village, home of the hopeless, haunt of those 
doomed children who are segregated to live 
alone, cut off from all of human kind. The 

170 



In the Heart of Japan 

accursed of the race, these isolated ones, have 
access to the baths without rule or regime. 
The waters flow madly on, and the victims 
enter as they like, and come and go as they 
please, in nature's curative streams. Men 
and women soaked leisurely in the strong 
sulphur pools, as I studied the worst that 
comes in the form of physical misery. Eyes 
were sunk in their sockets, ears were gone, 
arms were decayed, and the ravages of hor- 
rible disease were evident on many a 
wretched victim. In the homes little babies 
toddled about, with here and there a sign 
which foreshadowed the dread enemy. 
Adults played at cards or dominoes, in 
pathetic effort to wrench a little pleasure 
out of life's ghastly tragedy. 

It is claimed that there is a ray of hope 
for the fated leper, and a woman, once 
young and handsome, declares that eighteen 
years ago she was cured of the foul malady. 
With them she lives and works, trying her 
remedy on the diseased, and I watched her 
process, as she used the powder of the herb 
of moxa, and dropped it with a burning 
match upon the invalid. Here and there 
she dropped her burning point, and the 
touch of flesh and fire was harrowing. The 

171 



A Woman Alone 

same calm stoicism, the same stern heroism, 
were apparent as at the baths. Not a sound 
escaped the sufferer. Rarely a slight shrink- 
ing or a twitching of the muscles showed 
how keenly the nerves felt the torture. One 
hundred points are burned in a hundred 
days. Terrible remedy for a terrible mal- 
ady, and one could only wish that the forti- 
tude of the sufferer would be rewarded by 
sound health in a cleanly body. 

They are living on heroism and hope, 
doomed children of fate and misfortune, 
set aside as in a ghetto, too often forgotten 
and despised. Whatever the cause of the 
trouble, be it personal sin or ancestral heri- 
tage, the victims are only worthy of our 
sympathy and our help. The heart is wrung 
with pity for their plight. What wonder 
that of old the leper sought the great Healer, 
and pleaded for new life! What wonder 
that the Heart of Universal Love was wrung 
with such wretchedness! But, wonder of 
wonders, that the ungrateful nine, when they 
felt the warm life-blood coursing freely 
through the veins again, forgot to return 
praise and glory to the Healer. All honour 
to the native woman! All honour be to 
Father Damien, to any man, who has offered 

172 



In the Heart of Japan 

up the great sacrifice of life in the world, 
to isolate himself in the vale of disease, that 
he may, in brotherly love, wipe out one 
atom of this foul misery, as he numbers his 
days alone with the victims who are called 
" Unclean, unclean." 

A Night of Wondrous Beauty 

The third-story room needed no protec- 
tion from intrusion, and that night a flood 
of moonlight entered, as I lay thinking in 
the silence, wakeful with the memories of 
that eventful day. Through the impressive 
quiet there came nine silver strokes. The 
watch said 3.30, which did not explain the 
ringing notes. Was there fire or danger in 
the village? I thought of the warders ever 
watchful to warn these little people against 
fire and flame, which could so soon sweep 
devastation among the match-box homes, and 
I crept out on the little balcony to view the 
sleeping world. 

It was a peaceful picture framed in the 
soft, pale light, for all the land was at rest. 
The sulphur fumes rolled up in cloudy col- 
umns from the vat below, and the wind 
drifted the fleeting clouds as they fluttered 

173 



A JVoman Alone 

into space. Occasionally a cloud-bank sailed 
across the full moon, which rode out again 
in regal splendour. The little brown homes 
were distinct in the night, and their glorious 
carvings of phenix and flower stood clear 
against the sky. In the distance lay the vil- 
lage of the sleeping lepers, and impartially 
the gracious moon shed her refulgent light 
upon the hopeful and the hopeless. There 
was no suggestion of sad fatality, of suffer- 
ing or despair. Serene peace rested over 
the inland town. I crept back to the room 
which was flooded with glory, and my eyes 
fell on the benign Buddha, calmly smiling 
in his raised recess. About him were green 
boughs, placed in my honour, and before 
him were two unbaked loaves, an offering 
to the god, that my visit might be propitious 
to myself and a blessing to the house. 

A Break-down in the Forest 

Morning dawned gloriously beautiful. I 
Had seen the sight for which I came, and 
merrily we bowled away. The grass spar- 
kled with the early dew. The birds trilled 
their sweetest carol. Every flower gave off 
rich perfume. The firs were pungent with 

174 



In the Heart of Japan 

balsam. The steep divides, the woodsy 
glens, the mountain slopes, the rippling 
streams, were full of nature's poetry, when 
snap, crash, crack, grind! The poetry of 
life went out in dreariest prose. Old Fi- 
delity stood still in his tracks, and the rik 
jolted down with a thud. The two men con- 
sulted, like wise old Senators, then Fidelity 
picked up his courage and painfully an- 
nounced, ^^ Varee soUy, riksha broky, Oksan, 
leetle walkee, five cho, fus village." 

It was all too true; the cart had broken 
down in the very wilds of Japan. Every 
nerve in my body cried out against such 
injustice. I ached with the jaunt, and was 
weary with the burden of the sights. I had 
no Japanese stoicism, no heroism as reserve 
force, and gladly would I have given up. 
But the inevitable must drove me on, and 
I dragged wearily up to the tea-shop of 
the village, and was laid to rest on a shelf, 
while the natives came up to view the re- 
mains. 

The place owned no riksha, and I mounted 
astride the spiny back of a dirty, knock- 
kneed quadruped, and drove my hands into 
his dirty bridle, which promptly broke, and 
then I clung to his dirtier mane. No word 

175 



A Woman Alone 

or deed of mine could keep that creature in 
the " straight and narrow way." He was the 
most profound student of nature that I met 
in Japan. He veered to every cliff, walked 
out on every ledge, gazed far into the depths, 
studied the yawning gulfs on the ragged 
edge, and no hammering of his hard sides, 
nor cajoling with soft words, could win him 
from perversity. If by mental telepathy he 
had learned my rash boast, he could not 
have been more determined that I '^ should 
not follow the beaten track." He was bent 
on original and unbeaten tracks of his own, 
and, after two hours of mutual struggle, I 
jogged up to Hagiwara's inn, not like a 
conquering hero, but like a most despairing 
pilgrim, and the handsome host, the bath- 
boy and his dictionary seemed the dearest 
friends. 

In the morning another riksha and an- 
other runner were obtained, and at noon 
Fidelity's aide appeared at the tea-house 
with seven new unpainted spokes looking 
reproachfully from the repaired rik. It had 
indeed been a smash-up in the wilds. 



176 



In the Heart of Japan 

Back at Kindayu's Inn 

Never was home more attractive to tired 
traveller than the cleanly Kindayu house, 
perched on a parapet, with its real bed and 
spotless linen. Heihachee left me with an 
added credential in his budget. He offered 
to return the sardines and the unused tin of 
butter. Honest old soul! He said he would 
keep the bread of his own make, to which 
we had resorted when the loaves gave out. 
He threw back his pyramidal head and 
grinned among the parchment wrinkles, as 
he said, " Oh, too bad, too bad, Oksan no 
like, no could eat." I lied heroically, and 
said that they were very nice, but I was not 
hungry for any more. As I analyze the 
sentence, I believe there was an unconscious 
glimmer of truth in the statement. I had 
bolted one down, with saintly grace, to save 
his feelings, but the memory of that dread- 
ful dab of heavy brown dough will be a 
terrifying souvenir. I turned with joy to 
the Kindayu menu, strung with pearls of 
French which would have astonished the 
ears of the Academic. 

Faithful, honest, old Heihachee! As I 
think of towering forests and grim moun- 

177 



A Woman Alone 

tain ridges, of steaming baths and patient 
sufferers, Heihachee looms up, not the least 
among the noble features of this marvellous 
inland trip. If it be true that " the last 
shall be first '^ in the final casting up of 
accounts, this tawny, wrinkled son of quaint 
Japan will stand in the vanguard of the 
honour roll. If '' he who is faithful over 
a few things shall be ruler over many," the 
realm of Heihachee the faithful will be a 
vast domain. 



178 



In the Heart of Japan 



CHAPTER IX 

SIGHTSEEING 
The *' Welcome Society 



tf 



The '^Welcome Society," as its name 
indicates, welcomes the stranger, for a con- 
sideration, to many an interesting corner of 
Japan. Originally, membership meant the 
payment of fifty sen, or one shilling, but 
such was the pressure for the privileges of 
admission, and such the revenue to the em- 
pire, that the temptation was great for the 
crafty natives to raise the fee, and when I 
arrived in the land the officers demanded 
five yen, or two dollars and a half, for en- 
trance to the great order, which speedily 
became so unpopular, and so ignored by for- 
eigners, that the little people realized that 
they had overstepped the bounds of pru- 
dence, and reduced their figure to the com- 
paratively reasonable sum of three yen. 

179 



j4 Woman Alone 

The old Irish-Australian lady had been 
in the land in the one-shilling days, and 
she read them the riot act on exorbitance, 
logically declaring, " You want everybody 
to come, and you use every means to get us 
here, and then you make it as hard as possi- 
ble for us to see the things of interest." The 
official looked meek and submissive, and did 
not answer, but perhaps the argument had 
some weight, for the price soon dropped. 
By being a member of this society, many 
semi-public affairs of great interest are made 
easy of access. 

The Irish-Australian lady was always hard 
to down. She alone trundled up to the 
funeral of a noted native, was admitted to 
the mausoleum on his private grounds, was 
escorted to the front seat, and was the only 
woman in an audience of five hundred. 
When I asked, "What in the world were 
you doing there? " she promptly answered, 
" What am I in the land at all fur, if it 
isn't to say all that is doin'." 

The old lady was in high favour with a 
certain clique, as she had valiantly defended 
the conduct of our crew when they met dis- 
aster, and were afterward vilified in what 
she called " a darty English paper." It 

1 80 



In the Heart of Japan 

was too much for her honest blood to hear 
abused the poor men who had been faithful 
in peril, and whose living depended on their 
character. She found no man brave enough 
or interested enough to take up the cause, 
so she penned her own article of defence 
to the press, and enlisted the eternal grati- 
tude of the company. Its president came 
with noble steeds and flowers, and bore her 
away in triumph to a superb entertainment 
in his home, and she was presented with a 
bracelet of pearls. Vials of wrath descended 
when I doubted the genuineness of the pearls. 
" Do yer be after thinkin' that a great rich 
company loike that would bay givin' a lot 
of false pearls for a reward of merit? " We 
were all ready to write devoted articles and 
test the point, but no occasion offered. 

A Visit to an Asylum 

In general, one gains admission to public 
and government institutions by applying to 
the Prefecture, but, for anything less formal, 
a " name-card " is the open sesame through- 
out Japan. A kindly soul awaited me in 
the gravel court, where I sought entrance 
to the asylum of Japan's unfortunates. Re- 

i8i 



A IVoman Alone 

peatedly she flattened herself out on the 
ground, then steered me to the reception- 
room, and settled me in the solitary arm- 
chair, while she pattered away to find the 
superintendent, whose English was limited 
to the words, " boy, blind," and we filled in 
the niches of talk with the usual pantomime. 

I looked longingly across the pebbled court, 
to groups of gesticulating children, and he 
comprehended my desire to visit, glanced 
doubtfully at my shoes, but let them pass 
on the shiny floors, and I stepped lightly 
to the schoolrooms, where science and love 
have worked out so much for the children 
who have lost so great a part of life. Fif- 
teen deaf and dumb children, from six to 
twelve years, sat on hard benches around low 
tables in a hollow square, and the teacher 
taught articulation. The room was very 
bare, her wooden table was old and dingy, 
and she had no seat. A large mirror aided 
her, before which the children stood, as they 
attempted to place the organs of speech. 
Then the curtain was drawn across the glass, 
and they attempted from memory what it 
had revealed. 

The teacher was quiet and earnest, her 
features were strong and tender, and pa- 

182 



In the Heart of Japan 

tiently she worked with vowel sounds, much 
like our own, " a-o-u," forming them into 
syllables, to a word, and a phrase. Care- 
fully she placed the organs, as she drew the 
child's hand across her own face, or placed 
the lips of the little one in position to make 
the sound which was unheard. 

Eagerly and desperately they tried, and 
the results were often pitiful. Frequently 
there seemed little likeness to the original 
sound, but the joy in the child's face pathet- 
ically bespoke his longing for success. Two 
little boys made frantic efforts, but their 
thick, clogged words were almost devoid 
of form. An anxious little girl pitched her 
voice like a shrivelled old crone, and the 
cracked falsetto note was shrieked in despair, 
as she nervously shook her head and snapped 
off from her fingers' ends the word which 
she knew her tongue should utter. Their 
keen attention and their eagerness to do were 
a sharp rebuke to the carelessness of chil- 
dren whose powers are complete. Marvel- 
lous things could be done through the same 
hard work by scholars who have started un- 
handicapped in life. 

I watched the arithmetic work in a class 
of older scholars who were deaf and dumb. 

183 



A Woman Alone 

As I entered, the teacher saluted gracefully, 
and all the children rose and made a cere- 
monious bow. They took no further notice 
of me, but each boy and girl was eager to 
be at the board, to write the results from 
their slates, or to correct a mistake. Hands 
bristled in the air, and, as the teacher pointed 
to his choice, the scholar salaamed low be- 
fore coming to the board. The little ones 
were devoted to the work, without hint of 
disorder or neglect. The world-famed cour- 
tesy of the natives was most apparent in the 
school routine. 

The teacher of the next grade was himself 
a deaf mute, and his work was marked by 
enthusiasm. With a bamboo rod, he pointed 
to the pupil and to the object-lesson. Words 
on the board were illustrated by objects on 
the table, and the children were quick to 
associate house, horse, ship, store, flag, and 
rejoiced in their success. I purposely took 
the vacant seat beside a little boy, but he had 
prejudice against my foreign self, and, by a 
series of grunts and signs, prevailed upon me 
to take the seat behind him. I could not 
blame the little chap for his fastidious whim, 
as he knew nothing about me, and I had 
no right to usurp any privileges on his do- 

184 



In the Heart of Japan 

main. But his pernickety dislike for my 
presence greatly shocked, and rather amused, 
the kindly superintendent, and he was un- 
certain whether to sympathize with me or 
with the child. The man had won a warm 
place in their hearts, and they ran to him 
with fearless freedom, to beg a favour or to 
give him welcome. 

As recess time came, the deaf teacher gave 
sharp, quick moves to denote erect position, 
to stand, to bow, to march, and the pebbled 
court was alive, as the little folks made use 
of the crude, open-air gymnasium, where the 
boys performed on parallel bars, and girls 
jumped in large hoops and swung from the 
rings which dropped from a pole of many 
radii. 

From the study of the mutes I passed 
among the blind. The master was dictating 
a lesson which the little ones printed with 
raised letters in a frame. Darkened eyes 
rolled heavily, or peered pathetically under 
the lids, as if the afflicted ones would fain 
catch a glimpse of the soft, warm sunlight 
of the Orient. Disease had injured other 
eyes. Some little heads swung back and 
forth, in that pitiful manner of the blind. 
But their touch was keenly sensitive, and 

185 



A Woman Alone 

they readily traced the raised text, and 
learned the world's geography through 
raised globes. Arts and trades were theirs, 
by patient manipulation, and carpentry, sew- 
ing, weaving, moulding, were followed with 
marvellous results. Up-stairs was the realm 
of practical industries and fine accomplish- 
ments. Blind girls knelt with their teachers, 
stringing the long kato and picking the dis- 
mal samisen with their ivory spatula. Here 
was the embryo of public concerts, of plain- 
tive quartettes, and of the weird music which 
is the high art of the native and the amuse- 
ment of the foreigner. In the sewing-room 
pupils were cutting and tailoring, as they 
knelt on the mats. Dark tights and bright 
kimonos grew under the deft fingers of the 
unfortunate ones, who were thus working 
their way toward a practical livelihood. 

Japanese "Art 

In visiting Japanese schools, one is struck 
with the fact that there is very little life 
work in the art, and almost no sketching from 
the object. As all work was from the copy, 
I often wondered who had the courage or 
the skill to make the first " copy." The peo- 

i86 



In the Heart of Japan 

pie are fine imitators, copyists, and often the 
schools showed me good work, figures that 
were ably done. To my question, "Was 
this from the original," always came the 
answer, " It was from a flat copy." I was 
greatly amused to hear the defence put up 
in their behalf, that the Japanese were such 
thorough students of the human anatomy 
that they needed no object before them. 
This assumed, of course, the perfect type, 
and always the same type, and admitted no 
individuality of form or style, which with 
us is the mark of genius. To catch varieties, 
to give the distinct personality of a form, is 
to us the delight (and the life) of art. 

In the studio for the mutes, the scholars 
did much decoration of cover-frames, al- 
bums, books. The work was all flat, and 
the copy always before them, and the work 
often seemed stiff and conventional. The 
superintendent pointed proudly to the mural 
decorations, and called his one Christian 
worker, and best artist, to do me a rough 
sketch. It was very free-hand work, from 
memory, one might say, and I guard it 
among prized souvenirs. He dashed a few 
quick strokes, and a rose-bush with fair flow- 
ers grew upon the cheap brown paper, and 

187 



A Woman Alone 

a delicate butterfly settled among the petals. 
" Cho," he called it, as the pretty creature 
fluttered on to the bright leaves. 

The School of Massage 

The room of the massage was a most 
interesting scene, as it stood for one of the 
best known trades throughout Japan. The 
visitor is soon struck by the plaintive note 
which resounds at night in the byways, as 
the masseur strikes the weird call which tells 
of his approach. There was science in the 
management of nerves and muscles, as teach- 
ers manipulated the pupils, scholars kneaded 
themselves, and pupil worked with pupil. 
Girls were stretched on the floor, propped 
on the little wooden pillows, with clothing 
loosened, while quilts were dropped lightly 
on the exposed figures. The blind girl was 
a strange sight, as she felt her way over the 
body, skilfully tracing muscles and nerves. 
The leader invited me to a personal pound- 
ing, and I loaned my neck and shoulders 
to the science, but the strong little hands 
crashed into my starched linen, and fast 
demolished my blouse, and I recoiled from 
what might be called a " rub 'er neck." In 

i88 



In the Heart of Japan 

the next room the boys devoted themselves 
to massage, and in this school which pre- 
sented so many lines of help and service 
to the suffering, nothing seemed more prac- 
ticable than this health-restoring science. 
Scholars without special talent here learned 
a trade which lifted them above public beg- 
gary, and rendered them useful in spite of 
misfortune. 

Only a scant half-dozen words of English 
could the leader speak, and no sentence could 
he follow, but he proudly showed the medals 
won from the World's Fair for the training 
in his school, and he showed many photo- 
graphs of our great institutions, one of Helen 
Keller being orally taught by Miss Sullivan, 
and an autograph letter by Mrs. Bell of 
telephone fame, whose personal affliction 
gave her a warm interest in all that per- 
tained to the deaf and dumb. She had vis- 
ited the Kioto school, and wrote in strong 
faith for its work. 

I had decided on a personal application 
of massage in my room, and resorted to sign 
manual for expression. '^ I " (pointing to 
myself), '' Kioto hotel " (well known to all), 
"massage" (making passes on my person), 
" to-night, nine o'clock " (showing my watch 

189 



A JVoman Alone 

and making figures); "how much?" (pre- 
senting money.) It is astonishing how far 
a very little goes. The man understood me 
perfectly, and called to the teacher. I se- 
cured her smiling consent, and gave her my 
" name-card." 

That night, exactly on the stroke, she 
left her clattering clogs at the steps, and 
sent in my card. She was ushered to my 
room in soft straw sandals. She slipped 
them off at the door and glided gracefully 
along in her stockings, and with reverential 
bows put me under the bedclothes. She 
twirled my thumbs and bent my joints, and 
seriously studied the rigid wrists that were 
stiffened by long sieges of gout. She was 
all tenderness and sympathy for the suffering 
that lurked in the frame. She made soft 
passes from the shoulder down, following 
gently the nerve-lines. Not a word could 
we exchange, but I needed no medium of 
language to know that she was giving me 
the best of her warm "heart and trained hand. 
She bent the toes and twisted the ankles, fol- 
lowing the legs and moulding the knees and 
rubbing the thighs with the same kind care. 
It was funny enough to see this wee creature, 
so dignified and serious, creep cautiously 

190 



In the Heart of Japan 

on to the bed, and kneel beside me like a tiny 
kitten. She folded her shapely baby hands 
under a cheek, to show that I must turn, and 
she rubbed the tired scalp, and ran her little 
fingers over neck and shoulders. It seemed 
as if an electric eel squirmed its way down 
my back, as she turned her knuckles in upon 
the spinal column and worked them down 
my vertebrae. Her touch quieted and 
strengthened. She had a strangely comfort- 
ing power, and I had drifted into a sleepy 
langour, when her soft pat told me the 
seance was finished, and she slid gently 
away, bowing and backing from the room, 
a mass of smiles. Oh, little sister of the 
tawny skin, how much the foreigner has to 
learn of gentle grace and sweet demeanour! 
For over an hour she had knelt beside me, 
giving generously of her sweetness and 
strength. In her eyes, fifty sen were a boun- 
tiful requital for an hour of life's service. 
But the nervous foreign lady thought twenty- 
five cents a small return for the offering of 
physical strength and kindly love. 

The Geishas 

If one word, above all others, strikes a 
chord of interest, and draws the stranger like 

191 



A Woman Alone 

a magnet, in Japan, it is that of Geisha. 
The charms of the geisha girl have been 
read and written and sung, till the name is 
a synonym for the flowery kingdom, and the 
avowed object of every man's visit is an ac- 
quaintance with these little charmers. The 
school which fits these young women in those 
fine accomplishments which have made the 
name renowned through the world is one of 
the most interesting features of the land. 

The preconceived ideas of the fair lady 
are often shattered by personal contact. I 
had heard of her as coy and artless and inno- 
cent, loving and winning, modest, fascinat- 
ing and beguiling, and I was not ready for 
the astonishing statement of the cranky old 
maid who had studied the girl for fifteen 
years and declared, " They are stealthy, 
wicked little cats, cats, all of them, and they 
do not seem to have a human instinct." 

This was a slap in the face, a rude 
awakening, after one had indulged the 
fanciful notions of literature, and had 
heaped charms unlimited about the geisha. 
"Is she morally impossible?" I asked. 
" Not positively impossible, but she is mor- 
ally improbable. All her wiles and graces 



193 



In the Heart of Japan 

are for the ruin of her victims, and seldom 
is she better than an outcast." 

Thus pleasant theories were swept away, 
and the pretty geisha girl became the em- 
bodiment of vice made easy, if I was to be- 
lieve the bald statement of the harsh critic, 
which I did not accept without reserve. 
Fifteen-year residents may have knowledge, 
and, likewise, they may have violent preju- 
dice and vehement expression. 

A Trancing Lesson 

The geisha is the public dancer, all will 
admit, but " dancing," in our sense, does not 
exist in Japan. No spinning top reel, or 
grasshopper jump, with awkward bounce 
and breathless hurry of the Western world, 
would ever mark or mar the graceful sweep 
of the geisha's movements. Slow lines, easy 
waves of motion, pretty attitudes, and gentle 
poses constitute the dance, which is taught 
and performed individually. One cannot 
picture two geishas wheeling about in each 
other's arms. Old age and homeliness do 
not shelve a teacher in Japan. The years 
which ripen one's experience add authority 
and weight in the land where age is hon- 

193 



A Woman Alone 

oured and wKere ancestors are venerated, 
and women old and wrinkled are strong in 
the teaching force. 

A child of eight or a miss of eighteen was 
put through her paces by the old duenna, 
who did not rise from her knees, but indi- 
cated, as she bent her body, what should 
happen on the stage. The long sleeves un- 
folded gracefully, and wrapped themselves 
again. They swirled in wraith-like form 
about the little body. With gentle voice and 
friendly glance the teacher directed, and 
with meek obedience the pupil imitated. 
She pattered softly across the stage, flung 
wide her sleeves, toyed with the big folds. 
It was a Loie Fuller performance, looking 
not to colour and lime-lights for success, but 
depending wholly on grace of motion. She 
scampered back, wheeled quickly, and bent 
so that the narrow draperies fitted tight to 
the small form. At a rap of the teacher's 
wand, the pretty foot descended, thud, upon 
the floor, while the other poised above. 
Then the midget in flowery kimono twirled 
and pirouetted on her dainty toes like a 
whirling rainbow. The airy motions of her 
arms suggested the bird-play of our kinder- 
garten. The pupil relaxed her muscles with 

194 



In the Heart of Japan 

the ease of a Delsarte, while the old lady 
swung her head backwards and sidewise, 
dramatically rolled her eyes, and threw coy 
glances over her shoulder. It was a quaint 
attempt to beguile and to fascinate. It was 
studied national art, followed solemnly, 
worked out religiously by the little mimic. 
Had she been performing the sacred rites 
to her dead ancestors, she could not have 
been more serious, more conscientious in her 
efifort. Not a side glance, nor the shadow of 
a smile, betrayed a thought beyond the les- 
son. The coquetry of the fan drill showed 
the same stately dignity, almost stern in its 
exactness. Each twirl and twist, each flutter 
and turn, had weighty value, and must be 
made with thumb and fingers at the proper 
angle, with hands adjusted to a code of fan 
etiquette which was only known to the high 
bred. Any omission in the attitudinizing 
stamped the performer as a wretched bun- 
gler. The teacher's quick rap of the wand 
on the stool meant another fleet dash of light 
feet across the stage, and the lesson ended 
with low bows and airy flutters. 



195 



A Woman Alone 
A Music Lesson 

Of equal interest, and of equal difference 
from anything we know in the name of 
music, is the other lesson of the little people, 
and, as catcalls sounded through the thin 
partitions, I entered the music-room, to 
watch the stiff gestures of the clubs, raised 
parallel, perpendicular, at right angles, to 
fall with a bang on the drums, and perhaps 
stir those famed forty-seven ronins from 
their long, cemetery sleep. Near by stood 
the native hibachi, and, as the lesson ended, 
the teacher drew the finely shredded weed 
from her pouch and bent her long pipe in 
the embers of the brazief, to puff contentedly 
the three little puffs which are the native 
pipe's capacity. Her honest effort had 
earned her the comfort which came with the 
smoke. 

Other musical aspirants crooned their dis- 
mal wails above stringed instruments, and 
another old lady struck shrill falsetto notes 
for them to follow. It was a wild attempt 
in the name of Apollo, and Orpheus must 
have done sweeter things than this to move 
the stones, but I had listened to the highest 
pitch of musical culture in the dismal shrieks 

196 



1 



In the Heart of Japan 

of the cherry fetes^ and I recognized that 
these amateurs were well on the road to 
fame and glory. 

A Lesson in Tea Service 

Tea service is a solemn rite, time-honoured 
and royal. It is the test of elegance, of quiet 
dignity and repose. There is precision in 
every move of the tea maiden. As I watched 
the little lady, no drop of water fell outside 
the bowl. AH the steps were performed in 
our presence. Daintily she rinsed the dish 
and tenderly she wiped it. Exactly she 
measured with her little scoop, and grace- 
fully her twirling bamboo brush mixed the 
liquid. She replaced each object with taper- 
ing fingers that were straight and firm. 
Every move declared, " I am so honoured 
in rendering you this service, my noble 
guest, that I cannot be too dainty, too deli- 
cate, and too thoughtful in every act. My 
very best efforts cannot do justice to your 
noble presence." Gentle courtesy and ex- 
quisite compliment are implied in the deco- 
rum of the elaborate tea service, which was 
amplified and emphasized by the old emper- 
ors, and especially by the redoubtable Hidi- 

197 



A Woman Alone 

yosha, to impress the worth of ceremony 
upon his courtiers, and to lead long hours in 
fruitful meditation rather than in idle gos- 
sip. It is the fine edge of culture and the 
acme of politeness. We admire rather than 
ridicule it when we realize its deep signifi- 
cance, and wc of the hurried age and the 
worried life may rejoice in a people who 
have time for long-drawn-out elegancies of 
reposeful etiquette. The elaborate tea cere- 
mony is the sine qua non in a broad educa- 
tion. It is a prime essential in correct de- 
portment, and the brusque and independent 
nations cannot easily grasp its value and 
importance, nor do we readily catch its fine 
details. 

The little maid passed the steaming drink 
to the ancient teacher, who bowed in grate- 
ful appreciation and rattled down the bev- 
erage. Drinking is no silent art among 
the Japanese, and noisy swallowing is per- 
fectly consistent with propriety. 

The maid passed me a twin bowl, and I 
resolved on gastronomic heroics. But the 
floating green flakes caught and choked me, 
and I faithlessly relinquished my test. The 
lifeless brown wafers, which looked like 
fried potatoes, were much better. But I had 

198 



In the Heart of Japan 

made a bad break in good manners. A 
look of astonished sorrow passed across the 
teacher's face as her pupil poured away my 
wasted grounds. I had my object-lesson in 
self-control. A lady from the geisha school 
would have strangled at her task, in the last 
gasp of tortured etiquette, ere she would 
have grieved her hostess by wasting one leaf 
or one drop of the treasure so carefully pre- 
pared. She would have swung her bowl till 
the last leaf swirled into place, and she 
would have gurgled down the last drop, 
though it sounded like a death-rattle, out of 
friendly consideration. In their duty to 
decorum, the cultured Japanese can never 
falter, even though Spartan heroism be a 
part of their politeness. 



199 



A Woman Alone 



CHAPTER X 

THE BUDDHIST UNIVERSITY AND THE JUDO 

SCHOOL 

Buddhism in Japan 

ShintOISM, the native religion of Japan, 
has its rival in the imported faith of 
Buddhism, brought in by way of Korea, 
and its rites have been degraded by the evil 
practices of its leaders. The debauchery of 
the Hongwangi chief, his extravagance and 
consequent indebtedness, caused trouble 
among the followers. Since the emperor 
is considered divine, his relative, the lord 
high abbot, was a being so nearly divine 
that it was a difficult matter to reprove the 
gentleman for his sins. His son, an exalted 
ascetic, bears proof of pure life in face and 
manner. When the followers demanded 
that the father should cuKail expenses and 

200 




THE FAMED BUDDHA OF KAMAKURA 



In the Heart of Japan 

renounce his profligate mistress, the wicked 
gentleman positively refused to give up the 
pleasures of sin. So great a storm was 
raised that the objectionable lady voluntarily 
withdrew from the temple, and father and 
son united in an appeal to the temples 
throughout the land for a payment of the 
debt. So we see that church troubles are as 
possible among the pagan as among the 
Christian sects! The result was a religious 
revival in the land, and a call for the purifi- 
cation of the Buddhist faith. 

An Irish Buddhist 

The old Irish-Australian lady, advanced 
theosophist and incipient Buddhist and all- 
round crank, had in tow an Irish ex-priest, 
sycophant and parasite, who was ready to 
embrace any doctrine which meant no work 
and fruitful returns. He claimed to have 
studied, long years, the occult science in 
India. He had been denounced by an ex- 
missionary, editor of The Voice, in Tokio, 
and was challenged to an argument. Though 
the old lady was willing to believe in the 
Irishman, with limitations, she did not wish 
him to run on to sure ruin, and oflfered her 

201 



A Woman Alone 

advice, when he declared he should answer 
the challenge. 

" Shure an' ye'll do no sich thing. Ye 
can't answer thim argumints. Ye ain't got 
the wisdom nar the larnin' ter open yer 
mouth, an' yer must jist kape still." 

It was difficult to down the Hibernian 
fakir, but the old lady prevailed, and then 
we accepted his invitation to the Buddhist 
University, seat of mystic learning, in a 
grove outside of Tokio. He met us at the 
station, robed in flaming orange. He looked 
like a cutthroat playing a saintly role. His 
two brethren were less conspicuous in gray 
togas. It would have cost a mite to pass 
the turnstile with a platform ticket, so they 
waited just beyond, and their sandals scuffled 
through the dust as we made our way to the 
jogging tram. 

" You will kindly pay our fares," said the 
Irishman, with calm assurance. 

" Och, indade, shure we will that, with 
plisure," said the old lady. 

The Buddhist University 

Students on the grounds fiercely batted 
tennis-balls, and crowds were assembled in 

202 



In the Heart of Japan 

a long, low shed to watch a fencing bout. 
Hundreds of students, squatting outside the 
ring, looked on with breathless interest. The 
foreign ladies were put in a safe corner to 
watch the display of warlike struggle. The 
opponents looked and fought like fiends in- 
carnate. They wore stout cuirasses, worsted 
gloves, wicker masks, and they furiously 
flourished bamboo swords with a zeal that 
would drive many a Mars from the field of 
battle. The umpire kept close watch, and 
judges made frequent notes. A favourite 
fighter despatched a worthy line of foes, but 
a stronger combatant drove him from the 
ring amid thundering applause for the vic- 
tor. Beyond the ring, contestants dressed 
and undressed with the unconventional ease 
of the native. Winners received testimonials 
of their skill, tied in coloured ribbons. A 
cord, across the room, blazed the names of 
the victors, and the number of their victories 
was streaked in red. 

It is never easy to guess ages in Japan, 
where children are early responsible, and 
mere babies care for the younger babies. 
Two infants stepped into the ring and 
opened a lively contest. The youngest 
looked scarcely seven years, and fought like 

203 



A Woman Alone 

an avenging fury as he plunged toward the 
foe and whacked the air with violent strokes. 
When his blows struck our way, we dodged 
under the table, while I meekly demanded, 
" Is this the reformed Buddhism of your 
mystic university? Is this warring process 
illustrative of the peaceful doctrine of occult 
India?" 

" An' shure I'll not be afther a-tellin' yer 
till I say miself out o' this aloive^ wid me 
head on me shoulders," said the scared theos- 
ophist. When the youngster was safely cor- 
ralled, the priestly orangeman urged us to 
peep out, and led us to the peaceful audi- 
ence-room of the wise Swami Rah Tirth. 

Swami Rah Tirth 

To the faithful, calling for the purifica- 
tion of the faith, he seemed the bright star 
in the night, pointing to a resurrection. He 
was the embodiment of the doctrine. His 
mind was regarded as a well of wisdom and 
his life as an open book. Long years of 
concrete and abstract study, of mathematical 
and scientific work in the university of La- 
hore, of occult meditation beneath the snowy 
Himalayas, had ripened him in knowledge. 

204 



In the Heart of Japan 

He was devout in practice, a true disciple 
of great Buddha. The people looked upon 
him as the Saviour of their faith, the Luther 
of reform. ^' Prove all things, choose that 
which is best,'' was his motto, and his heart 
was fixed on the salvation of Japan. When 
that is done, he promised that he would 
cross and attempt the regeneration of Amer- 
ica! Such is his lofty aim, and he evidently 
did not realize what a big contract he was 
blocking out. He had a kind, true face, a 
winning smile, a gracious manner. He was 
eager to visit our vast land, and he gave a 
heavenly smile as I told of our own snowy 
heights, which are no unworthy rivals of the 
great Himalayas. 

In the upper chamber were assembled the 
men of wisdom. The president of the uni- 
versity, the editor of the theosophical maga- 
zine, priests of the temple, drank the inevi- 
table tea with the Swami and his two Indian 
attendants, stunning men, with tawny skin, 
flashing eyes, and raven hair. To the true 
Buddhist even eggs are forbidden, since 
they contain the germ of life. The old lady 
had sent to her sycophant a mammoth 
sponge cake, and he asked if it contained 



205 



A Woman Alone 

any of the forbidden product, and she lied 
with Irish ease. 

" Indade, don't I know yer rules, and wud 
I bay afther makin' yer throuble? Not a 
sign av an \gg wuz ther in it." Later she 
gleefully whispered in my ear, " It's not me- 
self that makes sponge cake without the 
iggs, and ther wuz iggs enough ter make it 
good. The poor, starved crittur shud have 
wan rich bite in his life." 

We were the only women and the only 
foreigners on the platform, and it was very 
infra dig. to cross the spotless matting in our 
shoes, but the lady, fat and lame, rebelled 
when, sandals were presented, and readily 
gave account of her remarkable shoes, that 
they " niwer tuk dust, they have no hales, 
an' are worn a-purpose." The natives did 
not quite see the logic, and scanned the for- 
eign shoes most critically, but they were too 
polite to resent her assurance, so the great 
concession was granted, and we tiptoed along 
in shoe leather, like guilty sneaks, while 
every man left his shoes outside, and entered 
barefoot, or in his stockings. 

Several hundred students, including three 
earnest women, squatted on the mats, below. 
A native orator spoke on the " Comparative 

206 



In the Heart of Japan 

Merits of Buddhism and Christianity," 
while we longed to know his argument; but 
the occasional word " Christo," was the only 
hint we caught of a discourse which would 
have been pregnant with interest to the 
Christian hearers. 

An Indian, who introduced the Swami, 
had no Japanese, but spoke in fluent English 
to his enlightened audience which was gen- 
erally familiar with our tongue. He told 
of the periods in the leader's life, of early 
activity and later seclusion, of his profound 
scholarship, his high-grade mentality, gained 
by self-projections into the astral realms, 
where mind travels apart from the body. 
The speaker was a queer colour-scheme in 
blue, with dark trousers and long coai, broad 
white belt, and light blue vest and heavy 
muffler. The outfit seemed a misfit suit 
donated by foreign army and navy. As he 
closed, amid applause, a band of dwarfs 
struck up on two accordions, two drums, and 
a pair of cymbals. The leader played a 
piercing flute, and the big base drum was 
much larger than the little boy who banged 
it. 

The gentle Swami took his place amid 
accordion-pleated music, and waited to be 

207 



A Woman Alone 

heard. His colour-scheme was brilliant yel- 
low, and he made a unique picture. His 
head was Shakespearian, and his glazed 
scalp bristled with abbreviated spikes. 
Kindly eyes, with gold- rimmed spectacles, 
looked from under his high forehead. His 
tawny features were wreathed in a perpetual 
smile. His narrow, bright robe fell to his 
feet. Above it dropped a gown of gay 
orange. Around him swept a salmon-col- 
oured shawl. 

His English was finished, and his first 
sentence was an inspiration: "Sisters and 
brothers! Gods! what a blessed sight it is 
to look into so many serene and happy 
faces." His lecture was an exalted tribute 
to self-sacrifice. His manner was vehement. 
He had no notion of vocal training, and he 
roared with a violence that rubbed off the 
velvet, and left him cracked and hoarse. As 
his voice grew huskier, he approached 
strangulation. It would have been funny, 
if it had not seemed dangerous. The strict 
principle of caste forbids a true Buddhist 
to use the receptacle of another, and the 
Swami ignored the glass of water brought 
by an attendant, as a previous speaker had 
used the glass, and he struggled on with his 

208 



In the Heart of Japan 

hoarseness. He threw back his salmon shawl, 
and drew from mysterious depths a pink 
table-cover, which he vigorously used as 
handkerchief, and bunched it away under 
his armpit. Faster he spoke, and hoarser he 
grew, as the beaded drops rolled down his 
face. 

Indian orators do not imitate the classic 
and the statuesque. They speak with fiery 
ardour, and are soon physically exhausted. 
The Swami grew tired, but his placid smile 
returned as he drank tea and nibbled sponge- 
cake, in the upper chamber, and discussed 
abstraction and the bliss of Nirvana. Swami 
Rah Tirth is a wise student, and he is gentle 
and good. He believes in his mission to 
reform the people who have fallen so far 
from the first truths of Buddha. The gos- 
pel of universal brotherhood and everlasting 
love he would revive throughout Japan. 
It sounds very much like the teaching of the 
gentle Jesus, and, whether it be practised in 
India, in Nazareth, or in Japan, it is the 
light and life of the world. The Swami's 
face reflects his doctrine, and attests a mys- 
terious and abiding peace, " which passeth 
all understanding," and is good to have. His 
kindly wishes were sounding in my ears as 

209 



A Woman Alone 

we turned to the station, accompanied by 
the Irish protege, of cat-like step, who pre- 
sented a deplorable contrast, and who left 
us with profuse adieus and the calm com- 
mand, '' You will kindly pay my fare to 
Megura." 

Professor Kano and His Judo School 

A contrasting institution, of equal fame in 
the land, is the Judo school of Professor 
Kano, its founder, who is a unique factor in 
the country. As Kano was journeying in 
China, Tomita Tsunejira carried on the 
school and received the guests. Red tape 
and a special permit secured the entry, and 
repaid all effort. A score of men jumped 
to their feet, as my riksha rolled into the 
court. Spectators are always drawn to the 
school, and there were idlers, and coolies in 
blue. The lobby seemed a dressing-room, 
where scores of suits were pigeon-holed, and 
where clogs awaited their owners. The 
urbane manager smiled sweetly and bowed 
low to my card of introduction, and, in 
stockinged feet, I curled up like a Turk 
on the platform, while a score of sturdy 
men tumbled and bumped and rolled and 

2IO 




PROFESSOR KAKO 



In the Heart of Japan 

spun, landing on the classic floor which, for 
a quarter of a century, had trained athletes 
and developed wrestlers renowned through- 
out Japan. The unfurnished room was the 
cradle of physical skill, the spot where many, 
by scientific training rather than by weight 
or power, have learned how to handle men. 
Professor Kano, known as the " Father 
of modern wrestling," is a philanthropist, 
loved by his people. His skill and his devo- 
tion have given to the Japanese their repu- 
tation as the best tumblers and the most 
daring acrobats in the world. Neither he 
nor his manager nor his teachers receive a 
penny for their work. Love and enthusiasm 
inspire the workers. Professor Kano has no 
desire to be wealthy. He is content to draw 
a salary as professor in the Higher Normal 
School. There is no sordid motive in his 
private enterprise, and no school could be 
more public. " Whosoever will, may come," 
without entrance or tuition fee. Money is 
an unknown element in his school, and its 
platform is truly democratic. The true 
sporting spirit for fair play and equal rights 
prevails. Nobleman, rikman, and coolie are 
on an equality, and skill in throwing is the 
only badge of merit. Five thousand pupils 

211 



A JVoman Alone 

have tried their strength on this wrestling 
field, and they number in their lists a sec- 
retary to the British legation. Small boys 
and mature men are proud to practise here. 
All wear the same costume, of heavy white, 
with loose, open jacket and very short trunks. 
Men of noble families wear a purple sash, 
while the sash of the ordinary citizen is 
white, and this is the only mark to distin- 
guish plebeian from patrician, to tell the 
humblest combatant when he has displaced 
a man of noble rank. The son of the editor 
of Japan's best paper sat by the wall with 
the humblest natives, and was tossed and 
thrown by an obscure coolie who outdid him 
in skill. 

The manager declared strongly for the 
principles which guide the wrestler's code, 
and for the value of wrestling in mental and 
moral gain. The code of ethics is exacting, 
and many a thoroughly bad boy shows a 
moral reform after a month at the Judo 
school. No court code is more precise than 
the ceremony with which these adversaries 
approach each other. The ballroom manners 
of Alphonse to Dulcina, as he asks her for 
a dance, are no more perfect than those of 
the opponents in this arena. The suppliant 

212 



In the Heart of Japan 

crawls on hands and knees, salaams to the 
floor, and repeats his fixed form of invita- 
tion. The recipient also plays the role of 
quadruped, bumps his head on the floor, and 
repeats the ceremonious acceptance. Then 
they stand erect, come to the centre, and war 
begins. At the finish follow bows and re- 
sponses, expressions of mutual gratitude and 
appreciation; and congratulations, compli- 
ments, and recognition of special merit are 
in order. 

The men mark their record in the school 
register, in strange cabalistic signs dashed 
on by a brush from a block of India ink. 
The writing is in columns, beginning at the 
end, we should say, on the last page of the 
book, and on the right margin. Here is 
future proof of each man^s bout, with whom 
he struggled, and with what result. The 
test is no child's play, but deadly earnest 
from start to finish. Muscles strain, cords 
swell, eyes dilate, as each man pushes for 
the mastery. Every movement is thought 
out for its scientific value. The fray is 
marked by nimbleness and dexterity. Every 
sweep of the body is made with lightning 
flash, and the thought which precedes is 
quicker than lightning. It is a training of 

213 



A Woman Alone 

the mental powers and a swift study of cause 
and effect. The work is based on physical 
laws. Statics, inertia, the law of bodies at 
rest, of bodies in motion, of momentum, of 
velocity, of the lever, the fulcrum, of poise, 
and the maintenance of gravity, are the foun- 
dation of the art. Fair play and a scientific 
basis are the code. 

In his limited English the gracious mana- 
ger explained the system, and I drank the 
detested tea, an ubiquitous penance, if one 
is not fond of the beverage. Tomita Tsune- 
jira explained the word " judo," which is 
the key-note to the profession, and which, 
as he sadly announced, has no equivalent in 
English. " Ju " means soft, pliant, yield- 
ing, and " do " means thoroughness. Freely 
translated, a thorough doing-up of the oppo- 
nent, in a soft and easy style. The practical 
object-lesson did not reveal the softness of 
the process. Men spun through the air, and 
fell, slap-slam, on all sides. The soft, yield- 
ing matting seemed the only pliant feature. 
After the toss-up and the thump, men lay 
for a moment stretched in Delsartean relax- 
ation. Then they rebounded with the spring 
of a rubber ball, and jumped to the foe, like 
wiry little spiders. If a shoulder were dis- 

214 



In the Heart of Japan 

located, a spasm of pain delayed the game 
till the bone was shoved back in the socket. 

Scientific Wrestling 

" I will now show scientific moves," said 
Mr. Tsunejira, as he cleared the floor, and 
called for his two crack teachers. The 
pupils had been ready for practice. They 
had held many bouts and brief rests, but they 
readily retired to give place to the experts. 
Students knew that rare sport was in store, 
and they were anxious for the exhibition. 
With a modest laugh and a smile of pleas- 
ure, the men advanced for my benefit. One 
was short and thick-set, the other slight in 
figure. They slid along, 1-2-3, ^^ if prac- 
tising a waltz. Then they twisted their 
knees, and tied up their bodies in a double 
knot. They rested, they pushed, and a man 
was thrown. The beginning and the end 
were apparent, but only a trained eye could 
detect the scientific move. Some sudden 
twist, unexpected, at the right second of 
poise, had sent the victim sprawling. A 
few moments were filled with dexterous 
moves, electric tosses, and quick tumbles. 
Over the head, on to the shoulder, right, left, 

215 



A JVoman Alone 

across the thigh, a man was tossed like a 
featherweight in mid-air. The admiring 
school crouched in envious wonder. The 
proud manager scanned the play, intent, 
with knotted brow and wide-open eyes, dis- 
approval and pleasure evident, at the vari- 
ous moves. He would have made a noble 
daimio in older times, this mixture of courtly 
grace and stern rigidity. The performers 
did their best stunts, and gave general pleas- 
ure; the manager called a halt, and the 
teachers retired with profuse expressions of 
courtesy and compliment. The white and 
purple sashes of the pupils mingled on the 
floor, as the men renewed their bouts with 
fresh impulse and inspiration for the art. 

Daily, from three to five P. M., and Sun- 
day morning, from nine to eleven, the school 
is in session, for that work which makes men 
ready to see, able to do, willing to dare, 
courageous in attack, modest in victory, brave 
in defeat, polite and manly always. The 
principle and the practice of the school are 
the making of the soldier, and the humblest 
men in training here become record-breakers 
of bravery and endurance at the front. 

Here the aspiring lads of Tokio may take 
few lessons or many, as they choose, and 

216 



In the Heart of Japan 

here they have the practice which is one 
essential in the equipment of every police- 
man, that he may hand over a scientific 
touch-down to every tough who needs it. 

In the outside court men were drawing 
water from the deep well to fill the buckets 
for the after-bath, which is the pleasure and 
the need of these cleanly people in every 
walk of life. 

For his great and practical philanthropy, 
Professor Kano has earned the world-wide 
fame and the national love which he has 
won. His is patriotic mission work of the 
highest type, without money and without 
price, a free gift to the humblest and the 
highest, for the betterment of mankind, for 
the making of manly men, who, in time of 
peace or in time of war, are the strength and 
bulwark of the nation. 



217 



A Woman Alone 



CHAPTER XI 

THE RUSSIAN MISSION AND THE RED CROSS 

HOSPITAL 

Bishop Nicolai 

From the plain of Tokio, which stretches 
in a labyrinth of wide streets and narrow 
alleys, with a network of shanties and little 
shops, one sees, high on the dominating hill, 
a group of white buildings with a dark 
cupola, a slender spire, and golden cross. 

Thus, overlooking the great capital in the 
plain below, is the Russian mission, with its 
large cathedral. " Be shure yer say it, fur 
it well repays the climb," said the old Irish- 
Australian lady, who was my respected men- 
tor and advisory board. Following her ad- 
vice, I climbed the high hill with a snorting 
rikman, well-winded before he reached the 
top. 

With memories of the Greek-Russian 

218 



In the Heart of Japan 

church in Sitka, whose vestments and altar- 
cloths were woven by devoted nuns in Rus- 
sia, I wondered what this station in Japan 
might hold, and, crossing the pebbled court, 
I sought the bishop's house. A Japanese 
lad ran down the corridor, and bade me 
enter where a perpendicular card, in wood, 
bearing cabalistic signs, probably read the 
occupant's name. If it read '* No admit- 
tance," I was none the wiser. The apart- 
ment united bedroom and reception-room, 
and, to my hesitating knock, there came a 
hearty greeting in an unknown tongue, which 
encouraged me as if it said, " Come ahead," 
and I passed to the inner room, where two 
queer men sat in close conference. They 
were, apparently, host and guest. The latter 
was enjoying sweet biscuits and a savoury 
drink, as the former. Bishop Nicolai, ad- 
vanced with a warm greeting for the 
stranger. This was the dear father who for 
so many years had devoted his life to his 
chosen people. No extra time and no intro- 
duction were needed to be on friendly terms 
with the kind old man. He was very tall, 
with long hair and beard, and his beautiful 
cloth gown reached to his heels. From his 
long chain of very small silver beads, which 

219 



A IVoman Alone 

passed around his neck, hung his big silver 
watch. When I asked how long he had lived 
in Japan, '' Long before you were born, my 
dear child,'^ he replied, and we fell to guess- 
ing ages. He gallantly guessed mine as 
much less than it was, and this I heartily 
appreciated. The father was not so com- 
pletely out of the world that he had for- 
gotten to cater to woman's weakness. 

" I have only two more years to live," 
he said. " You know David said we could 
live till seventy, and I am sixty-eight." 

" But we do not consult David in that 
matter. He was not speaking for the mod- 
ern world. Hosts of people have passed his 
limit, and you are just ready for your best 
work," I answered. 

In recent years, the bishop has had gen- 
eral oversight of the entire mission, but has 
given his personal attention to the transla- 
tion of the Gospel from Russian into Japa- 
nese. Forty-three years he had worked 
among these people, returning only twice to 
his own country. He seemed a man fired 
with nervous energy, and ready in many 
tongues. His den was full of pictures, and, 
as I spoke of a copy of the Sistine Madonna, 
he called my attention to a series of softly 

220 



In the Heart of Japan 

coloured Raphaels, which recalled the gal- 
leries of the Pitti Palace. 

Very freely he discussed the Greek 
Church, and its points of contrast with the 
Roman. '' We have no Pope. We are ruled 
by the council and the synods. We have 
confessional and seven distinct sacraments. 
We can marry, and have the cares and pleas- 
ures of home. No, the Czar is not our head, 
in any sense. That is a false notion which 
has gone out, among many wrong ideas about 
Russia. The Czar would be subject to me, 
or to any bishop, in church affairs. We do 
not have statues, because they are coarse 
and clumsy, in a church where decorations 
should be simple. Hence we have pictures 
only." 

The Cathedral 

Clap, clap, came the small boy with the 
big key, which would admit me to the empty 
sanctum, built in circular form, with a strip 
of carpet running up the centre. The Greek 
church has no aisles and no divisions. The 
congregation usually stands, but the Japa- 
nese are allowed their national habit of 
kneeling. The Greek service uses no mu- 

221 



A Woman Alone 

sical instruments, but young voices are trained 
in a goodly choir, and the vesper music of 
the mission on the hill is one of the delights 
of the city, and the children grouped before 
the altar rejoice to sing their evening hymns. 

The cathedral, which has been built about 
fourteen years, is the crowning work of the 
bishop's devoted life, and every evening, at 
six, beneath the great candelabra, he reads 
the service to his people. From nine to 
eleven the Sunday service is held. The audi- 
torium will accommodate fifteen hundred, 
though only at Easter is it crowded. 

The high altar, which cost eleven thou- 
sand yen, is an elaborate contrast to the stern 
simplicity of the interior. Towering, with 
its gilded cross, fifty feet high, and extend- 
ing forty feet in width, it is an extravagant 
mass of gilding, inlaid with beautiful paint- 
ings. 

The altar is a veritable gallery of Bible 
literature. The bishop has realized the value 
of object-lessons for impressing the young 
mind, and he placed the Bible stories in the 
most attractive form. " Here the children 
see the Bible in painting. It is good for 
the eyes to dwell upon," he said, and the 
most famous artists of St. Petersburg were 

Z22 



In the Heart of Japan 

engaged to decorate the obscure temple on 
the distant hill. The Annunciation is por- 
trayed. The Madonna holds the infant 
Jesus, with His hand on the globe, in token 
of a conquered world. The Crucifixion, the 
Resurrection, the Last Judgment, are pic- 
tured. Stephen and his brother martyrs read 
the lesson of fidelity. The Apostles are sug- 
gestively portrayed, and the Evangelists 
stand out in a dignity which would rival 
the great figures of Diirer. 

The Japanese are devotees of art, and are 
readily impressed by the magic touch of the 
brush. Here they find much to study, and 
they adore this artistic revelation of sacred 
history. Their impressionable natures re- 
ceive the old story, and the appeal is most 
vivid, through the sense of sight. Such is 
the good bishop's belief, and, surely, he has 
a right to know. In the practical work of 
his school and hospital, he has been a power 
for good, and dearly has the Russian priest 
been loved for many years throughout his 
parish. So closely is he identified with the 
life of the neighbourhood, that the entire 
district is called after him, the Nicorai. 

Another ornament is the treasure of the 
cathedral. Near the altar, protected by a 

223 



A Woman Alone 

glass case, reposes the dead Christ, painted 
in relief, and clad in marvellous grave- 
clothes. The cloth of gold is run with 
strings of pearls. On the base of gold 
embroidery are worked the words, " He gave 
Himself in death, that all the world might 
live." The Russian nuns had generous love, 
and to spare, when they wrought with tire- 
less fingers, and with infinite skill, the glori- 
ous Christ-robe for the mission across the 
seas. 

Bishop Nicolai talked most lovingly of his 
flock. He had a warm word for the Ameri- 
can missionaries, who, he said, " were all 
good people." The secretary of the Russian 
legation to Korea was of our group, and 
much was said of that quaint land. He, too, 
spoke good English, as all high-bred Rus- 
sians are linguists, and we spoke of the poli- 
tics and the poverty of Korea, which had 
abandoned the emperor's celebration for lack 
of money, and lack of credit, with which to 
borrow cash for large processions. The 
bishop was no cloistered monk, with eyes 
only for his book and his breviary, but a 
modern man of affairs, well versed in the 
serious questions of the day. He stopped 
in the discussion of modern history to give 

224 



In the Heart of Japan 

me a kindly farewell and the hearty invita- 
tion, '' Come often to our service. We want 
to know you well." 

The Red Cross in Japan 

Ever since those remote days when " A 
gentle knight was pricking o'er the plain," 
the Red Cross has been the symbol of kindly 
deeds and gentle courtesy, and the countries 
are hard to find on the round globe to-day 
where the Red Cross is not known by its 
work. Wherever its proud banner waves, 
there the philanthropist and humanitarian 
are found. The empress is its warm patron 
in Japan, where the society has been estab- 
lished twenty-eight years, and, on the anni- 
versary which marked a quarter of a cen- 
tury, one hundred and ten thousand people 
crowded into Ueno Park to hear the words 
of her Highness, as she awarded medals to 
the faithful. It was a great gathering of 
enthusiasts, and offered an excuse to the fete- 
loving people for a national picnic. The 
entrance was arched in evergreen, bearing 
the red symbol, and the park, at night, gave 
every proof of a big gala day. What the 
valiant Red Cross has been to the sick and 

225 



A Woman Alone 

dying, among the brave soldiers of the war, 
has now become matter of history. 

The Red Cross Hospital 

A very long and rambling ride from the 
centre of the limitless city brings one to the 
wide grounds, whose large buildings were 
erected twenty years ago. Pest-houses, de- 
voted to infection, are a little removed from 
the main buildings, which are conspicuous 
by the emblem of the order. The usher 
made obsequious recognition of my visitor's 
pass, and conducted me to a sad reception- 
room. A doctor appeared, immaculate in 
white duck, which contrasted with his 
swarthy skin, and we conversed in German, 
as we had no English-Japanese base. Our 
efforts were pitifully weak, but I tried to 
resurrect a few phrases, which might match 
the atrocious wreckage of the little man, who 
thought he spoke as to the manor born the 
language of the Fatherland. We waxed elo- 
quent over the tea-cups, which seemed the 
first step to support me in my general survey. 

We made a solemn tour of all the show- 
rooms, the directors' chamber, and the em- 
press's salon, with her full-length picture, 

226 



In the Heart of Japan 

where she may admire her gracious self on 
those glad days when she is received at the 
hospital. But I had not come for show- 
rooms, and only when I caught a stiff lab- 
oratory smell of alcohol did I feel sure that 
we were approaching anything like hospital 
wards. The laboratory was a storehouse 
for pans, jars, cases of organs internal 
and external, malformed, putrid, semi-gone, 
retained for examination and study. Speci- 
mens there were, enough to satisfy any lover 
of the monstrous, in this ghastly chamber 
of horrors. Every ailment in the catalogue 
of miseries has its sample. 

The quiet corridors were restful, and the 
little nurses flitting about like gentle doves, 
in white uniforms and high French caps, 
with the red cross, were a happy relief to 
the gruesome den. The hospital staff, of 
three hundred women, had passed a train- 
ing of three years. They live and mess in 
annexes of the hospital. They earn the small 
sum of eight yen a month for their services, 
and must pay five for board, so that their 
actual income is three yen, or one dollar 
and fifty cents per month. Not a vast sum 
for the long hours, hard work, and unpleas- 
ant details of their profession. A real mis- 

227 



A Woman Alone 

sionary at a minimum salary is this gentle 
Nippon nurse. 

The hospital is conducted by a company, 
which holds itself responsible for the sup- 
port. TWenty doctors are always in service. 

The Graded Wards 

The cost to the patient is graded in five 
classes, according to his means. A first- 
grade patient pays yen 5.50 per day to be 
alone in two comfortable rooms, with mat- 
tings and soft bedding. The so-called read- 
ing-room is the reception-room of visitors, 
who call under the doctor's supervision. In 
the second class, two patients share one neat 
bedroom, each paying three yen a day. In 
the fourth class are six patients, at yen 1.50 
each. The fifth class includes long wards 
of those who pay the nominal sum of one- 
half yen, or twenty-five cents of our money, 
to retain their self-respect, and do away with 
the sense of absolute pauperism. These sums 
include all necessities of food, service, and 
treatment. Foreign beds are used in the 
form of crude cots. The native beds of 
piled-up quilts arc entirely discarded. There 
is still another grade, unnamed in the reg- 

228 



In the Heart of Japan 

ular classes, of actual charity patients, or 
frei-costen, who pay nothing. The chief 
distinction apparent in these two classes was 
in the bedding, as the blankets of the free 
patients were rough and coarse and gray, 
while the fifth class had white blankets. 
Both of these wards, of long, gloomy sheds, 
were very plainly outfitted. Such of the 
frei-costen as can leave their beds eat at 
a general mess table, and they know that 
after death their bodies belong to the hos- 
pital. 

In very lame German, the little doctor 
asked if I would like to attend the autopsy 
then in progress, in the building reserved for 
dissection, on a poor man who had suc- 
cumbed to heart disease the day before. 
Perhaps he had not realized how thoroughly 
I wished to visit, and he seemed a little sur- 
prised at my ready assent, but resigned him- 
self to the inevitable. Six earnest men and 
one attentive little nurse, all robed in white, 
bent over their subject, while another doctor 
took notes. They removed the internal or- 
gans, and a final cut took off the breast-bone. 
Everything was scrupulously clean, but the 
ghastliness of the work did not inspire me 
to follow the medical calling. The guide 

229 



A Woman Alone 

invited me to wash my hands, as we passed 
out, but gloves rendered such ablutions need- 
less, unless he would drop me into the vat, 
and cleanse me in toto. 

Even in the most cheerless rooms there 
was an attempt to lighten suffering. Pallid 
children played with dolls and toys, and 
adults sewed and crocheted, or read the 
zigzag characters, which seem mysterious 
enough to make a well man sick. Long 
corridors gave off to the sunlight, and 
formed a fine solarium for the convalescents. 

Prevalence of Consumption and Kakke 

Insurance men, who can be trusted for the 
health statistics of the land, say that con- 
sumption claims fifty per cent, of all the 
deaths. It is the prevailing malady of Japan, 
and certainly the ratio of one-half on the 
death-roll, for a single malady, is enormous. 
The prime causes may lie in thin clothing 
and little fire, during much damp weather, 
poor food and hard work, which in time 
must deplete the system which is little en- 
riched and rebuilt by juicy roast beef. If 
there be no power of resistance, colds and 
coughs, engendered by damp climate, settle 

230 



In the Heart of Japan 

hard in the system, and hollow chests, sunken 
faces, and hacking coughs are plentiful in 
the hospital. Often the humble rikman, who 
braves all weathers in all seasons, wheezes 
and hacks with a persistency that suggests 
the grim reaper. He is very soon winded, 
and he puffs and snorts as if blowing a blast 
for resurrection morn. 

Kakke, a term which has no equivalent in 
English, is another grim disease, due to 
damp climate, which claims many a victim 
in Japan. It attacks the arms and legs, 
rendering the invalid as helpless as if para- 
lyzed, while the flesh is soft and flabby, pain- 
ful to the touch, and apparently bloodless. 
The doctor regarded this malady as a pecul- 
iarly national trait, and a most interesting 
study. As a polite attention to myself, he 
turned back the bedclothes and pinched a 
sick man's flesh, to prove its weak condition. 
The invalid, with the beseeching look of a 
wounded animal, cringed beneath the touch, 
and, with a shock and a sense of pity, I 
begged the doctor to drop the painful illus- 
tration. It could do no good, and it added 
one more ache in this suffering world. 

The poor receive help in the Red Cross 
■dispensary. One doubly fated little girl, 

231 



A Woman Alone 

with eyes and ears afflicted, came under the 
skill of the aurist, and again under the care 
of the oculist. The blindness, so pitifully 
prevalent in the empire, is often caused in 
babyhood, when the child's head is allowed 
to swing in the dazzling sun, as the infant 
dangles on the mother's back. The strongest 
nerves might be ^' put out of joint " by the 
glare which baby endures. 

In the doctor's kindly zeal to show every 
ward and each long corridor, it seemed to my 
tired feet that we had traversed miles of ter- 
ritory. Many harrowing scenes had been sad 
and depressing, a strain on the nerves, which 
added to the general fatigue, and a cup of 
Turkish coflPee at the close of the trip was 
a welcome tonic. It had a queer flavour, 
which smacked of the laboratory, and an 
unnatural sweetness, and I wondered if the 
doctor was preparing me for the clinic. But 
he was void of evil intent, and I left the 
Red Cross with added proof of kind hos- 
pitality and native politeness. Though he 
often pronounced my German ^^ zehr gut," 
the petty fib could be forgiven on the ground 
that standards vary, and he was quite in- 
capable of judging. I smiled to think that 
we had nothing to boast of on either side. 

232 



In the Heart of Japan 

A Tribute to the Red Cross 

What the Red Cross hospital has done for 
the people of Japan in time of peace was 
but an earnest of its power upon the battle- 
field in days of dire disaster. Its spirit and 
its strength have been terribly tested, and 
gloriously proved in the late war. A visit 
to the central home in Tokio, or the record 
of its work in time of sorest need, leaves 
supreme the thought of love and reverence 
for its work, honour and respect for its 
deep-seated purpose, wherever it lifts its flag 
and plants its relief corps throughout this 
needy world. As it helps the poor, comforts 
the sick, and soothes the dying, glory, hon- 
our, power be to its name, since the good 
which it would is the essence of God Him- 
self. 



233 



A IVoman Alone 



CHAPTER XII 

THE GREAT JAPANESE INDUSTRIES AND' THE 
STOCK MARKET 

The Tea Industry 

The wanderer to Japan, who does not 
care for rice and tea, will often find himself 
lacking occupation when the time comes to 
eat and drink. As rice is the staple food, 
so is tea the polite form. In store, temple, 
and theatre, in private home and public tea- 
house, at solemn rites and merry functions, 
tea is always offered, the emblem of good 
cheer, the symbol of hospitality. One is ex- 
pected to empty the tiny cup, and a refusal 
to drink would often mean insult. 

One of the famed sights of the land, which 
draws the tourists as honey draws bees, is 
the broad fields of Uji, near Kioto, where 
acres of short shrubs rear their thick tops 
of dark and shiny leaves. The picturesque 

234 



In the Heart of Japan 

peasants, with kerchiefs on their heads, and 
with their dark, patient faces seamed by 
much contact with the sun, pick the leaves 
into large panniers which are carried on the 
head and on the back. 

Kahei Otani 

The tea-culture is not simply for Japan^ 
but the far countries import great quantities 
of the product. Kahei Otani, a busy man in 
matters municipal and political, and a prom- 
inent member of the Chamber of Commerce, 
is the international link in the tea trade. 
He is an important business factor in the 
seaport of Yokohama, who buys the herb 
from the growers, fires it, and then exports 
it to distant nations. He is a patriarch 
among his people, honoured at home and 
respected abroad. 

His personality is strong. His keen eye 
and sharp-cut features show unusual char- 
acter. His smile encourages, his manner is 
dignified, and one feels that he is a man of 
business who has no time to waste. He has 
carried foreign dress to that extent which 
always amuses the foreigner. He is span- 
gled with gold ornaments; big sleeve-buttons 

235 



A Woman Alone 

the size of an eagle, big chain and multi- 
tudinous pendants, a bullet scarf-pin, and 
manifold rings with flashing stones attest 
his notion of what the foreign swell should 
be. Until recent years, the native knew that 
rings were a foe to natural beauty, but to-day 
every dude is loaded down like a slave-girl. 
The great merchant's business cares have 
not lessened his activity. He is open to good 
joke or story, and throws back his head with 
a jolly laugh as he strokes his long gray 
beard. He has been a wide traveller in 
America, from coast to coast, and speaks 
with interest of our big cities. He knows 
the value of international relations, and de- 
sires the friendship of America, as essential 
to commercial success in both lands. Yoko- 
hama's exports and imports have a wide 
future, and he realizes that a high duty on 
tea, if it forced Japan to find another market, 
would be a sad mistake. Readily he dis- 
cussed the situation, in the little office where 
the shelves, tier upon tier, were ranged with 
half-pound cans of samples. The dwarf 
bowls on the counter awaited the tester, 
whose delicate duty it is to sample and clas- 
sify every specimen which goes out of the 
great establishment. He is an expert, with 

236 



In the Heart of Japan 

sense of taste so acute that a mere touch, 
often a snifip, is sufficient to give rank to the 
tea. The taster has to be very cautious in 
his profession, as a generous swallow of each 
sample w^ould soon make of him a gastro- 
nomic wreck, or a hopeless tea-drunkard. 
Such is the latent power in the herb that 
professional tasters have often shortened 
their lives by carelessness. Mr. Otani speaks 
a little English, slowly. He understands still 
less, and does not pretend to follow fluent 
speech. His dapper little interpreter is 
always at hand, listening with patient meek- 
ness. He holds his hands behind him, and 
rises on tiptoe to the situation, when he 
would pour out his own harangue. Both 
gentlemen have a series of funny fits if a 
joke is uttered, and the joker feels proud 
and thankful that he is alive to give such joy. 

In referring to his active life, the mer- 
chant said : " I am up every day at five 
o'clock. I always get up at sunrise." 

" And do you go to bed at sunset? " I 
asked. 

" No, I go to bed when the moon comes." 

" Sentimental people think that is just the 

^time to be up. If you follow the way of 

the moon, you retire an hour later every 

237 



A JVoman Alone 

night, and when the moon does not rise at 
all, you must sit up all night and wait for 
it." This view of his nocturnal habit sent 
the old gentleman into spasms of mirth so 
violent that I regretted a witticism which 
might lead to his death. 

Tea-firing 

Mr. Otani is not a planter. He is simply 
a merchant who buys the leaf from all cor- 
ners of the island, and fires, packs, and ex- 
ports it to all parts of the world. The sea- 
son yields three crops, and the best comes in 
about May loth. Throughout the land the 
bushes, decked in their glossy green robes, 
are roofed with bamboo to protect them 
from bad weather, and the little natives, 
chiefly women, are busily picking the har- 
vest. 

From May till October fires burn and 
wheels turn in the factory, when everything 
stops for another season. The working day, 
of twelve hours, runs from five A. M. till 
six P. M., with an hour's rest at noon. Mr. 
Otani employs a hundred workers, men and 
women, but there is no child labour. The 
children of workers, with babies strapped 

238 



In the Heart of Japan 

on their backs, were toddling about, and 
nursing mothers often stopped their work 
to feed the little ones. A woman receives 
thirty or forty sen a day, /. e. fifteen or twenty 
cents of our money, for twelve hours of life, 
and the men receive from forty to sixty sen, 
or not more than thirty cents. Strange, isn't 
it, how we spoil the foreign servant? That, 
within a few weeks after he lands, we must 
pay a Japanese a dollar and a half per day, 
or forty dollars a month. 

Banked more solid than wood in a shed, 
and strong enough to stand alone, the tea 
is massed in the storehouse, whence it is 
shovelled into tubes and blown up-stairs, 
where it runs through the tunnels to the 
hoppers, and is dropped to the big iron pans 
below. Each pan contains seventy-five 
pounds, which are swiftly churned by a 
revolving piston in the centre. The long 
row of brick ovens is below, with fires that 
are faithfully fed. Intense heat, with a gen- 
eral shake-up, for forty minutes, constitutes 
what is known as pan-firing. Sun-firing is 
a very similar process under a different 
name. In basket-firing, the leaves are put 
in very coarse baskets, over small pans of 
charcoal embers, and the heat is retained 

239 



A JVoman Alone 

under cover. Basket- fired tea is very pop- 
ular with buyers, and the process takes about 
fifteen minutes. Mountains of charcoal, to 
feed the furnaces, stand in the yard. A very 
fine tea dust flies through the house, and 
little sweepers are busy all the time brush- 
ing up the powder from the spotless floors. 
The strong odour gives the idea of walking 
about in a big tea-caddy. Sorters and sift- 
ers pass the leaves through sieves of vari- 
ous grades, and others grind them down by 
rubbing heavy wooden rollers across the long 
sieve. A very tedious process it seemed for 
the quantity worked. " Very slow way, you 
think, in America," said the interpreter, and 
I could not deny the suggestion, which many 
a tactless American had doubtless uttered. 

In another corner of the house is the col- 
ouring process, — poisoning, one might say, 
in view of the ugly green urns of venomous 
liquid churned by coolie women. They 
looked up with a kindly smile from their 
evil task, and seemed not to realize the ex- 
tent of their crime toward the race, as the 
green spun around like an angry sprite. 

" What deadly stuff do you use? " I asked. 

The man smiled with placid reserve. ^* It 
is quite good, all harmless. People want 

240 



In the Heart of Japan 

green tea, must haf, must make. No come 
natural. Put in varee, varee leetle," he said 
in justification. 

So bibulous folks get green, — they know 
not what, — and comfort themselves that 
they have the natural hue of the plantation, 
while they grow cross and nervous with the 
artificial dye. The knowing ones, who are 
on to the trick, stand back and smile com- 
placently at the green world which they have 
hoodwinked. The United States and Can- 
ada take vast quantities of the Japanese tea, 
both black and green. The great merchant, 
with his tricks of the trade, his secrets, and 
his science, and his jugglery of the leaves, 
only caters to the public taste, and when that 
taste is green, the colour matches. If the 
public cried out for blue tea, he would use 
bluing. 

He is a typical Japanese, in spite of his 
foreign jewelry. He is a generous and pro- 
gressive patriot, a far-sighted, clear-headed 
financier, and he is patron saint to the army 
of humble workers who come to the great 
tea-firing house for work during three 
months of the year. He solves for them 
life's terrible problem, which, too often, is 
most distressing in the Orient. 

241 



A Woman Alone 
The Silk Industry 

From the mulberry leaf with its crawling 
worm, and the white cocoon with its long- 
drawn fibres, to the glossy fabric on the 
counter, the traveller may see every phase of 
the silk industry in Japan. Natives trudge 
the hillsides, with their baskets of leaves, 
and the shelves of humblest cottagers are 
incubators where the creeping things nibble 
their food. Later, cocoons are heaped up 
by the thousands, in the sun, by the doors, 
and they are dropped in the boiling caldrons, ,^ 
and the threads are skilfully drawn off. 
Country women have hand-looms, and the 
carded floss is their capital. There are no 
huge factories, with whistles and wheels and 
endless bands, but numberless little homes 
throughout the land work out the national 
industry. 

The House of Mitsui 

The name of Mitsui is great in the land, 
and is the shibboleth of commercial enter- 
prise. Eleven branches of the family — 
grown large by intermarriage and adoption 
of sons-in-law — control great business mar- 
kets. Their four departments include silk, 

242 



In the Heart of Japan 

mining, banking, and commission business, 
/. e. selling, from their wholesale houses, rice, 
cotton, and raw silk. Their ships, loaded 
with great cargoes of silk, cotton, and beans, 
touch at the ports of Tien-Tsin, Shanghai, 
and Manila, as Mitsui is the great trader 
for all the East. The name is a synonym 
for Oriental commerce. The family is 
proud of its industry, traced back a thousand 
years to the noble house of Fujiwara. The 
noted silk firm dates back 250 years, and 
230 years ago it made an innovation in busi- 
ness methods by marking the price on goods 
and selling any quantity desired. One may 
guess what an upheaval this was in the ways 
of commerce for a people who make no talk 
and do all things quietly and with reserve. 
Previously all sales were by the piece, and 
trade was wholesale, we should say. These 
changes gave the firm a popularity which it 
has always held, and the house of Mitsui 
is one of the liveliest centres in the capital 
of Tokio. 

A Bargain Sale at Mitsui's 

The world over, a bargain sale draws the 
American woman like a magnet, and I 

243 



A Woman Alone 

rushed down to Mitsui's when the clearance 
sale was on. Natives left their clogs at the 
door, and received wooden checks in return, 
and the polite coolies sat me on a stool and 
shoved my offending members into mocca- 
sins, before I could cross their threshold. 
Certainly no boorish creature could ever 
tread their spotless matting in his boots. 
The sale was like other sales, plus the na- 
tional factor. Customers stared at the goods 
in the cases, raised in relief and folded to 
advantage, designed for obis, underwear, 
kimonos, in quiet silk, subdued cloth, or 
gaudy cotton. All the cases were locked, 
and the heads of departments carried the 
keys. Quiet order reigned, and it was ap- 
parent that the cases did not belong to the 
big bargain. To foreigners, the cleanliness 
and quiet were marked features of the na- 
tive trade. 

The tide of traffic swarmed to the enclo- 
sure behind the rail, where remnants and 
goods damaged, spotted, left over, of every 
sort, were stacked on oilcloth mats on the 
floor, and women knelt in hundreds to pick 
and sort, to praise and condemn, to grab and 
carry off, with the same feminine zeal which 
marks the bargain fiend at home. The dif- 

244 



In the Heart of Japan 

fcrence was in the general quiet. There 
were orderly disorder and quiet confusion. 
Babies toddled under foot, in every one's 
way, and nobody minded. In America they 
would have been killed in the melee. No 
Japanese baby was ever killed by public 
rush. Many babies slept sweetly on their 
mothers' backs, as the matrons searched 
among the remnants, and an occasional 
toss-up to the shoulder replaced the infant 
who had begun to backslide. He opened 
his eyes and stared at the bargains, without 
pretending any interest, and then fell asleep, 
regardless of gains. The merchants have 
no mental arithmetic, and near the gate sat 
the cash-men with soraban, or little beaded 
frames, on which all sums are counted, much 
like the school frames with which our chil- 
dren learn their tables. Loaded with bun- 
dles of remnants, the ladies approached the 
treasurer at the gate, to sum up accounts. 
Bundle boys, with rice paper and rice strings, 
wrapped the purchase like a portfolio, which 
was always too small for its contents. 

Robbery is possible in Japan, and kimono 
sleeves are well adapted for shoplifting, and, 
mounted outside the rail, were spotters ready 
to detect any suspicious movement on the 

245 



A IVoman Alone 

part of the little ladies. I was the only sus- 
pect who gave trouble. Passing the gate, 
I went down on my knees among the tro- 
phies in a state of devotion. I had been 
warned that there were no foreign goods. 
" These sales are only Japanese goods, for 
the Japanese," said a man. " But I want 
to buy Japanese things. That is why I came. 
Won't my money go?" I asked. The logic 
prevailed, but prices are always so exalted 
for the foreigner that, naturally, the sales- 
man did not wish to see me getting goods 
at bottom prices. 

" Cheap as mud, and going at a song," 
I chanted, as I lifted the slabs, not knowing 
the price-marks, nor the quantity contained. 
But delight in a prospective bargain brought 
the woman's nature to the front. There were 
pieces of rich brocade which would make 
stunning draperies, sofa-cushions, vests, thea- 
tre coats. I clutched and grabbed, overthrew 
babies, and ran down gentle women. The 
floor was thrown into confusion. Why had 
I omitted Japanese in my tourist's outfit? 
The salesmen had no English when I made 
an appeal. I had made a wild chase, and 
perspired like a running rikman. I jerked 
ofif my heavy jacket, and, unluckily, threw it 

246 



In the Heart of Japan 

across the shoulder which protected in its 
armpit a weight of glorious samples. Then 
I deliberately darted for the street to leave 
the jacket in the riksha. Not for unknown 
worlds would I have left the bargains be- 
hind, which some native lady of similar 
taste might appropriate in my absence. 

My erratic conduct admitted of but one 
conclusion. It was the boldest bit of robbery 
ever committed in the Mitsui house. The 
natives may steal, but they will always be 
polite and quiet about it. They will be 
gentle and mannerly. A wild charge like 
mine, an unblushing piece of effrontery, quite 
passed their comprehension. It took their 
breath, and for a moment unnerved them for 
action. I advanced a few feet untouched, 
while they stood speechless and appalled. 
They regained presence of mind, as they 
saw the vanishing point of the goods. The 
watchmen gave the slogan, and runners fell 
upon me like avenging angels. I innocently 
thought they were running to my aid. It 
became an instance of the catcher caught. 
The man grabbed the goods, and I grabbed 
the man, to hold him with Masonic grip. 

"You speak English? Who speaks Eng- 
lish? Where is interpreter to tell me of 

247 



A Woman Alone 

the goods? " The men were unconvinced. 
The robbery had been too bold for me to 
fake innocent purchase. They seized the 
remnants, sent the jacket to the rik, and 
called for the head of the department. He 
was polite, he spoke pretty English, and he 
wore elegant clothes. 

Till six P. M., he guided me through a 
labyrinth of lovely weavings, and revealed 
the glories of the loom. One regal obi, four 
and a half yards long, cost 370 yen. It was 
like tapestry, a blaze of gold thread with 
beautiful designs. It would have been a 
handsome addition to Gobelin hangings. I 
left it hanging! 

We were up-stairs in the elegant show- 
rooms, discussing prices, when, at five P. M. 
Sunday, the store closed down, and the de- 
spairing rikman sent in to inquire if his prey 
had slipped out by a side door and left the 
unpaid chariot on his hands. Surely the 
natives seemed to place little faith in the 
foreigner. The exquisite furnishings of the 
lavish reception-room made it a princely 
retreat. Smoking-sets and crisp wafers were 
at hand, and tea was prompt to arrive. An 
elegant customer offered me the contents of 
his gold cigarette-case. We cast up accounts, 

248 



In the Heart of Japan 

and a hundred-yen piece rejoiced the inter- 
preter for his long afternoon, and proved 
that the purchaser was no common thief. 

The large store was quiet as I passed out 
by a side door, and noted that salesmen and 
spotters were resting from work, and ac- 
countants were telling their beads in the back 
rooms. The gracious linguist bowed me 
away, and rikky gave me a satisfied grin as 
he thought of his earnings while he had 
rested throughout the afternoon, and he trun- 
dled me away, both of us content with the 
results of a native bargain sale. 

R.xce Culture 

The summer passed in talk about the crops. 
Gossipy coolies discussed the vital theme. 
In the pigmy paddocks men and women 
waded ankle-deep in the mire, braving the 
bite of venomous creatures, while they 
weeded the farms. Constant rain would rot 
the rice, just as drought would burn it 
There had been incessant weeks of deluge, 
and dread and fear were abroad. The price 
had risen, famine was in prospect, and the 
poor would face starvation. Even the selfish 
tourist was willing that the hot sun should 

249 



A Woman Alone 

redeem the soggy earth. At the crisis of 
anxiety, a few bright days of overwhelming 
heat allayed the fears. The rice was saved 
and the panic was stayed. 

Japan's great trade is evolved through 
home industry. On a small scale, in all the 
little hamlets, work is carried on. 

Our vast prairie farms, with machines of 
every patent device for sowing and garner- 
ing, are unknown to the simple natives. As 
the grain ripens, workmen comb the kernels 
before their door, and thresh the grain with 
crude hand-flails. The men of " Pillsbury's 
A " would scorn the country flour-mill of 
Japan, where the natives beat the wheat and 
barley into flour beside the running streams. 
An overshot wheel without connects with a 
beam within doors, which drops a crude 
piston, thump, thump, into an earthen jar 
set in the ground, where the cereal is 
crushed. Kernels pushed aside by the piston 
fall back to the bottom of the bowl as the 
piston rises. The workers repeatedly sift the 
grain till it is sufficiently small. Beside all 
the running brooks one sees this primitive 
method. The dark, rough shanties of mud 
or thatch are home and mill to the poor 
people, who have barely a half-partition 

250 



In the Heart of Japan 

separating compartments. Here, in the dark 
and the dust, lives the large family, breathing 
all day the sifting particles of the mill. 

The Rice Exchange 

From the planting of the kernel to the sell- 
ing of the same, rice is of paramount inter- 
est in Japan. But the trip to the exchange 
was not so funny, nor so thrilling, as I had 
expected. The rikman dropped me before 
a long, low shed, which would have been 
an insult to an American stable, and I passed 
behind a railing, while merchants huddled 
on the floor like a flock of sheep, and grum- 
bled and rumbled a steady stream of small 
talk in polite and proper tones. This was a 
very correct afifair, not the wild row of New 
Y6rk, nor the mad lunacy of the Paris 
Bourse, heard for blocks away. My advent 
caused a lull in business, which also seemed 
different from New York. No woman's 
presence subdues that pandemonium. But 
many a winged native left the market to lean 
on the rail and puff his smoke serenely in 
my face, as he studied the foreign Eve who 
had the nerve to invade his paradise. Evi- 
dently petticoats were an unknown element 

251 



A Woman Alone 

in their realm, and my presence caused a 
lull in stocks. 

The market was saved by an anxious usher, 
who whispered mysteries and beckoned me 
through the office, where men of affairs lei- 
surely read the newspapers, up a gloomy 
back stairway to an attic room with doleful 
furnishings of green rep chairs and table- 
cloth. A steamer-chair was the only com- 
fort, and a smoking-set was the prime essen- 
tial. It was hot with embers, and the usher 
suggestively pushed it toward me. Then he 
read a long and fluent riot act, punctured 
with smiles and brimming with bows. My 
imagination made a wild guess at his mean- 
ing. Doubtless, with native politeness, he 
expressed appreciation of the honour done 
the humble exchange by my visit, and, with 
an instinctive eye to business, asked what 
stock I would take, and if I would water 
it, and if I would corner the market. I 
finally replied with a negative nod, and sad- 
ness passed over his face as he caught a dis- 
solving view of the colossal sale. He showed 
me how to use the push-bell, intimating that 
I might ring for help when I had decided 
on my bid and the number of shares. Then 
he ducked and wriggled away, leaving me to 

252 



I 



In the Heart of Japan 

ruminate on my past history and on the pres- 
ent excitement of the Japanese 'change. 

The situation hit my risibles. Silence and 
solitude as substitute for noise and crowds! 
An upper room, much like a prison cell, 
except that I had power to manipulate the 
market by touch of the tintinnabulator. The 
stowaway in the vessel's hold would not have 
more privacy than I in this business centre. 
Surely there must be something doing, de- 
spite the apparent depression, so I picked 
up my courage and slid stealthily down the 
narrow stairway and through the office of the 
busy men, who gave me a worried glance 
from their newspapers. I sneaked behind a 
pillar that shut off the active usher, and 
watched the shuffling crowds, who mumbled 
the figures and watched the results with pas- 
sive faces and folded arms. If the men were 
hopeful or despairing, they showed no signs. 

The Stock Exchange 

The stock exchange was a lively contrast. 
It is not usually open to the foreigner; but 
a little red tape secured the pass, which I 
presented at the lobby. A polite native came 
out to examine the applicant and conduct 

253 



A Woman Alone 

me to the rostrum. Evidently I was not the 
first guest, and my advelit did not startle 
the market. The stock exchange of Tokio 
means a company, and not individual mem- 
bers. It is open from nine to ten-thirty A. M. 
and from one till two I*. M., a short day's 
work compared with that in many cities. 

Three hundred wild-eyed men stood within 
the railing, shrieking their figures in proof 
of the battle. The excitemfent was \Vhat I 
would expect. All were men of means and 
position, and the types were an interesting 
study. A tall patriarch with a Moses beard 
grew rampant, and screamed his figures with 
the zest of a maniac. A small man in Eu- 
ropean suit and white vest, with one eye, 
kept that eye riveted on the boards, while 
a grim smile played on his face. He surely 
would play a big game to the finish. Men 
pushed and scrambled to the front. Railway 
stock, electric share§, steamship interests, were 
called, and roused a furor among the differ- 
ent contingents. Small boys, on a platform, 
hung the slabs with mystic marks, which told 
what sale was on. Gallery boys, with paint 
pot and brush, with a dash of white slapped 
the final figures on the blackboards, that 



254 



In the Heart of Japan 

looked like a series of memorial slabs hung 
to departed spirits. 

My guide, apologizing for his laboured 
English, that stammered and limped on his 
tongue, explained the signs of the times. 
" Mooch acteevitee eez prevailing nowdays," 
he said with delight. The phrase was his 
great linguistic triumph, and he pulled it 
out as the Nippon Yusen shares were called. 
They were the popular war-cry, and raised 
a mad uproar. Frenzied natives surged to 
the front. Clogs rattled loudly in a general 
stampede. Kimono sleeves were entangled 
with their neighbours. Men shoved back the 
offending sleeves, and rushed into each oth- 
er's faces, with arm outstretched, and fingers 
poking at each other's eyes, to indicate per 
cent. A violent push of the fingers outward 
accompanied the loud cry, ^' I sell, sell, sell." 
A nervous beckoning went with the gleeful 
cry, " I take, take, take." Excitement cen- 
tred about a half-dozen bundles of wasting 
energy. They seemed about to stab, to im- 
pale each other on the railing. Yet the wild- 
est frenzy was tinctured with good-natured 
mirth. An idiotic creature, with bristles and 
fangs, grinned like a jolly schoolboy, as he 
ran down his fat antagonist, and the latter 

255 



A Woman Alone 

returned a roaring laugh. Buying and sell- 
ing steamship shares seemed the huge joke 
of the century, and the grinny foe, with the 
shiny billiard-ball head, was so fat and jolly, 
so clean and smily, that he would have 
graced a circus or a pulpit. In sober mo- 
ments he was the prototype of a temple 
priest. 

The Nippon Yusen Kaisha 

The Nippon Yusen Kaisha sale was the 
climax of the day. All was over in the 
shouting scene, as the brokers clogged home- 
ward, with the day's work done, when its 
shares were hung at seventy-nine. Some 
years ago its capital of twenty-two million 
yen was held by 440,000 sharers, at fifty yen 
a share. The successful close of the war with 
China boomed the company, whose shares 
for a time reached the abnormal value of 
105 yen. With seventy-six strong steamers, 
it has had an aggregate tonnage of 242,000. 
In extent of service and of tonnage it is the 
seventh line in the world. 

Thus the young nation, born into the com- 
mercial world within the last half-century, 
has made a noble record for industry, enter- 

256 



In the Heart of Japan 

prise, energy, and wealth. Bound somewhat 
by traditions, by obscurity, and seclusion for 
centuries, by the disfavour of many nations 
toward a people not Christian, what other 
nation so handicapped in the race would 
have made such a record for progress and 
activity? Japan has pitted herself with won- 
drous power against the modern world, and 
to-day, a people hoary with the age of cen- 
turies, ranking themselves proudly with 
Christian peoples, is battling hard for su- 
premacy, while the laurels have been fast 
wrenched away by the little nation, brave 
and brainy, whom the great world has half- 
despised and never known. The vast fleet 
which plied the perilous waters to wage 
bloody war bore a marvellous record for 
safety, and the travellers' boats which have 
run to America, Asia, Europe, India, Aus- 
tralia have been immensely popular. They 
are always clean and cautious. They are 
famed for good service and for courteous 
attention. Daily do the captain, physician, 
and purser make the rounds of the boat to- 
gether, entering every cabin to see that all 
is cleanly and well ordered. Never have 
I known this attention on an Atlantic liner. 
No wonder that their stock stood foremost in 

257 



A Woman Alone 

the fluctuating market, and that Japanese 
brokers watch its progress with an eye keen 
for current values, and are quick to buy its 
shares. 

Mr, Kawada 

The loyal American is pleased to believe 
that much of this prosperity is due to the 
rare ability of its general manager, who is 
an exponent of the best methods of two great 
nations, which should join hands across the 
seas. Mr. Kawada, graduate of Ann Arbor, 
'94, spent eight years in America in prepara- 
tory and college life. He is a wonderful 
combination of the dignity, the grace and 
courtesy, the reserve power of his own peo- 
ple, with the push and enterprise, the busi- 
ness energy of the able American. He was 
sensitive to his environment, and his life in 
the States gave him a broad outlook on the 
business world, and ripened all those powers 
which are the essentials of the tactful busi- 
ness manager, who must come in sharp touch 
with all sorts of people, and must be a keen 
student of human nature, if he would success- 
fully handle men. A fine product of one of 
our strongest institutions, he is an important 

258 



In the Heart of Japan 

factor in the work of the large company. 
His English is well spoken, his French is 
good, and, if a German sought advice, Mr. 
Kawada could readily give points for the 
passage and map out the route. The scholar 
who has mastered his own native language 
of the Orient Has little difficulty in acquir- 
ing the comparatively easy tongues of the 
Occident. Mr. Kawada has an inexhausti- 
ble fund of information for the straying tour- 
ist of any nation, and America may rejoice 
that he is an exponent of her own institutions, 
an adopted son worthy to spread her wisdom 
and her glory among his own people on the 
isle of Nippon. 



259 



A Woman Alone 



CHAPTER XIII 
woman's education in japan 

The 'Emancipation of the Japanese Woman 

Day has dawned for woman in Japan. A 
few years ago, the educated native woman 
was an unknown quantity. All her aspira- 
tions were flouted, and she was regarded as 
an unnatural bugaboo. The story is told of 
four girls on education bent, who formed a 
suicide's quartette, resolved to learn or die 
in the effort. One and then another ap- 
pealed, through father, brother, and univer- 
sity, for the opportunity to work out life on 
advanced lines of thought. Their very argu- 
ments were the weapons turned against them, 
to prove that higher education was bad for 
women. Two girls were refused all help. 
They committed suicide. Christian mission- 
aries saved the other two from the same sto- 
ical fate. To-day learning is the passion of 

260 



In the Heart of Japan 

these people, and modern methods are their 
delight. The humblest peasant has his Eng- 
lish primer, and opportunity is given to girl 
or boy, since all the nation knows that by 
the power of modern learning Japan has 
taken a front rank among civilized peoples. 
Japanese statesmen now realize the fact that 
the little girls of to-day are the mothers of 
to-morrow, and that the training of citizen, 
soldier, patriot rests largely with them. 
Woman, once relegated to obscurity, has 
now come to the foreground. Schools for 
girls are many, with a curriculum based on 
that of foreign nations, and often conducted 
by foreigners or by foreign-trained teachers. 

The Girls' Industrial School 

The Girls' Industrial School of Tokio fits 
its pupils for a practical, honest livelihood. 
For twenty years it has been established 
under a president and board of directors. 
The natives have no fear of long hours, and 
do not call for short days, — till after they 
leave Japan, — and from eight A. M. till four 
P. M. the girls work at their chosen calling. 
A German, who has lived a quarter of a 
century in the country, and understands the 

261 



A Woman Alone 

natives and their language, has charge of the 
sewing. Being married to a Japanese, and 
the mother of girls, she can sympathize with 
the pupils, who furnish their own material, 
and work out the intricacies of underwear 
and overwear, and plan the national kimono. 

Sewing and Embroidery 

Accuracy is a feature of all Japanese work, 
and patient, exacting care is given the wad- 
ding which lines a garment, as the people 
put no stress on show or surface work. The 
pupils kneel beside their many-tiered work- 
box, and patiently evolve the garments which 
will be the proof of their skill. 

The making of kimonos on their native 
heath is an essential and natural part of 
needlework; but the fanciful feature of their 
handiwork results in a hideous display of 
ugly knit and crochet work, which we long 
ago learned to throw overboard, as a futile 
and barbaric invention for woman. It seems 
a queer inconsistency that these artistic little 
women should adopt what they never can 
adapt in wools and worsted, and arrive at 
such hideous conclusions, when by nature 
their taste is exquisfte. Perhaps it is an in- 

262 



In the Heart of Japan 

stance of German ugliness thrust upon them. 
All the world knows that no nation surpasses, 
if it equals, the Japanese in beautiful em- 
broideries, when the people are left to their 
own devices. 

In the sewing-school, also, is included the 
making of dolls and wild animals, very wild 
indeed, to judge from their wondrous anat- 
omy. The result is an uncaged menagerie, 
less harmful than it looks at first sight, of 
dogs, lions, elephants, fish, and fowl. The 
creatures are dear to the native heart, and 
have a ready sale in the market. In their 
eagerness to be Western, the people incline 
to anything foreign, regardless of what we 
have discarded, or how we have improved. 
They would seem to have culled the worst 
we ever had to offer, if the gaudy caps and 
spectrum bibs are samples, and their varie- 
gated mats might give delirium tremens to 
a sober man. Wristlets and garters have 
some raison d'etre among a people poorly 
clad, but the monstrosities might be spared. 
The foreigner's best is none too good for the 
dainty native, and we should not foist our 
back numbers, which have long been known 
as waste trash, upon these eager little peo- 
ple, who are anxious to acquire foreign art. 

263 



A IVoman Alone 

Their own beautiful embroidery is much 
better, and will always be prized at home 
and abroad. 

Pattering cautiously in my stockings 
among the frames, I watched wonderful 
results grow from satin background. Bird 
and flower and landscape were evolved with 
taste and patience and consummate skill on 
cover, screen, and kakemono. 

Draijoing 

Drawing, too, is very dear to the Japanese, 
though, strangely enough, they know nothing 
of life classes, nature and object work. They 
usually work from the flat copy, and seldom 
do they really sketch. Twice I saw a sad 
attempt to copy a stuffed bird from the 
show-case. The results were pitiful. The 
spirit of the feathered fowl would never have 
recognized himself in the " impressionist " 
picture, which violated all ornithological 
conditions. The people are keen copyists, 
but they have done little with the natural 
form, which we believe is the foundation of 
art. 



264 



In the Heart of Japan 

Artificial Flowers 

Imitation is at its best in the flower manu- 
facture. This is the delight of the scholars, 
and their deft fingers work charming results. 
Ancestral worship, plus flower worship, 
stands close to the religion of the country, 
and these floral copyists get very close to 
nature. The visitor may watch the flower's 
growth through every stage of development. 
Each bench has its dish of paints and its hot 
hebachi for firing the tools. The metal 
moulds of leaves and petals are put under a 
heavy press, and the perfect form emerges. 
The painting is most skilful, as the edges are 
tinted and the centre is shaded after the fash- 
ion of the flower. Stems of fine wire are 
rolled in green paper. A delicate tool, 
heated in the embers, is pressed into the 
dainty calyx or corolla, to give each sepal 
or petal its peculiar form. Minute forceps 
adjust it to the stem. Stamens are inserted, 
each with its tufted top, for anther. The 
pistil is dipped in a mass of yellow flakes, 
to form the feathery pollen. On the left 
hand, below the thumb, the pupil carries 
the paste in which she dips the wee organs 
before they are placed on the flower. Care 

265 



A Woman Alone 

and patience, love and pleasure attend the 
flower's growth, and a garden of brilliant 
buttercups, dainty cherry-blossoms, clusters 
of asters, the running morning-glory, the 
drooping wistaria, the feathery heather, pan- 
sies, and daisies give radiant effect. So deep- 
rooted is their love for flowers, whether it 
be of the lotus-pond and iris-meadow, or of 
the miniature and the artificial, that the Jap- 
anese must have flowers of some sort. Per- 
haps the constant contact with the posies, real 
or simulated, may be a key-note to the na- 
tional courtesy and gentleness. Certainly it 
is a practical education, and flower culture 
of any kind will always be in demand. 
Flowers, real or artificial, will find a ready 
market with natives and foreigners. 

The Girls* High School 

Three courses of study, the technical, the 
scientific, and the literary, are included in 
the Girls' High School. Sewing and draw- 
ing have much attention here, and strong 
work is done in history and national litera- 
ture. Science has a crude beginning, along 
lines which have been so well defined in our 
own country. I saw no compound micro- 

266 



In the Heart of Japan 

scopes with various objectives. Each scholar 
was provided with a specimen, a pan of 
water, and a simple pocket lens. Her little 
tool-box held a scalpel and a probe, two pairs 
of scissors, and two of forceps. A specimen 
hardened in alcohol was ready for drawing. 
Specimens are certainly plentiful, and one 
might hope for original work and life study 
in a land where the cicada singeth unceas- 
ingly. Alas! the little ladies are not so sci- 
ence-trained. Perhaps they have not the 
nerve to tear a creature limb from limb. 
The cicada had been drawn and quartered, 
labelled and analyzed in advance, and all his 
parts were duly named upon the blackboard, 
" dorsal-ventral-egg-guide," and again the 
work was conscientious copy rather than 
original research. Carefully each pupil 
sketched, and results were of varied skill. 
Some were marked by a trained eye and 
steady hand and a keen observance of winged 
venation, while others were decidedly imag- 
inative, and indulged in wild flights of col- 
our, blue and red-yellow entering into the 
scheme, not apparent in the original insect, 
but suggestive of the solar spectrum. Eng- 
lish labels were strangely distorted, but the 
effort was always honest. 

267 



A Woman Alone 

The entrance of a visitor causes no com- 
motion in the schoolroom. It is barely no- 
ticed, as the scholars work as if entranced 
with their subject, which is an all-important, 
all-engrossing matter. Fun and mischief 
have no part on the programme. They 
would be an incomprehensible interruption 
to the earnest work, and they never occur. 
The levity which may mark an American 
schoolroom would scandalize these sedate 
little ladies, who come to school for work 
solely. 

About four hundred scholars, from all 
over the island, are studying here, to go out 
as teachers to all parts. Over two hundred 
are boarders. A dozen girls occupy a hall, 
whose dormitories are fitted with single cots 
of foreign make. Schoolgirls here, as 
throughout the empire, are J^nown by their 
dark kimonos and magenta skirts. In the 
dining-room long wooden benches seat the 
girls, and long tables are stacked with the 
food. Each girl has her chop-sticks and 
bowl of rice, a bowl of cut fruits, a little 
teapot, and a big slice of bread. Though the 
dormitory has adopted foreign ways, the eat- 
ing is decidedly native. The teachers sit at 



268 



In the Heart of Japan 

a separate table, and at intervals on the tables 
stand little firkins with relays of food. 

The head master speaks excellent English, 
and is proud of his training at the Oswego 
Normal. A grand and fitting tribute he paid 
to the memory of that woman, good and 
great, whose especial work in history at Os- 
wego, at Wellesley, and at Stanford has 
given her fame in the educational world, as 
her gentle deeds and loving heart have en- 
deared the name of Mary Sheldon Barnes 
to thousands of worshipful students, and have 
made her grave, in the cemetery of Rome, 
a pilgrim's shrine. 

IV Oman* s University 

Japan owes many a modern impulse to 
America. A sunburst of progress has bright- 
ened the land in the last half-century, and 
the advancement of woman, though slow, 
even now in the embryo, emerging by change 
and development from a past bound by 
traditions and encrusted by prejudices, shows 
magical results. As a part of the new move- 
ment, the Woman's University is a thrilling 
surprise, both to native and foreigner. It is 
the hope and triumph of a Christian gentle- 

»69 



A Woman Alone 

man, whose life is given to education, whose 
strength is devoted to the betterment of 
his countrywomen. His work is based on 
American ideals. President Naruse was im- 
pressed with the educational methods of the 
States, while a student at Andover Seminary 
and at Clark University. In an extended 
tour through America, he visited all the lead- 
ing colleges for women, and returned to 
Japan in 1894 determined to erect a similar 
institution in his own country. 

Count Okuma and other prominent men, 
who believe in the nation's need of intelli- 
gent women, gave money to the scheme, and 
in April, 1901, the University was opened. 
Its wide grounds are on a hill outside the 
city limits. The approach is through an 
avenue of cherry-trees which, in springtide, 
lend a wondrous glory to the place. Flow- 
ering plants beautify the grounds. Tennis- 
courts stretch out before the big buildings, 
whose rooms are large and light and airy. 
The schoolrooms are marked by all the sim- 
plicity of the native homes. No ornaments 
relieve the bareness. The large assembly- 
room has cushioned benches. The study- 
rooms have the most primitive wooden desks, 
hand-made, and straight-backed chairs with 

270 




PRESIDENT NARUSE 



In the Heart of Japan 

no fanciful touch. There are no ink-wells, 
for each scholar furnishes her own ink-bottle. 
There are three distinct courses, the high 
school, the preparatory, and the university. 
The management plans to make a complete 
system, by extending the work down, through 
the grammar, primary, and kindergarten 
grades, thus giving perfect sequence to the 
entire course, with no abrupt transitions. 
Many come from other schools, unprepared 
for the university, and the preparatory work 
supplements their lack. In the high school, 
girls of thirteen years are fitting for the uni- 
versity. 

The Gymnasium 

In the large gymnasium, furnished with 
clubs, rings, and dumb-bells, the pupils give 
three hours a week to physical culture, to the 
development of "a healthy mind in a healthy 
body." The ring exercise, as I saw it per- 
formed in pairs, was more amusing than 
serious. The girls had little idea of military 
measure, and kept a time all their own, 
stepped as they pleased, and moved as they 
chose, regardless of the signals, and the em- 
phatic accent pounded out by the stirring 

271 



A Woman Alone 

notes of " Ta-ra-ra-ra-boom-de-ay,'* which 
might have pleased the immortal Lottie Col- 
lins. This strain of American music rings 
through all the Orient, and at any port will 
greet the American, to his pleasure or pain, 
in proportion to his love for music hoydenish 
or classical. 

Instruction in Englis^h 

Especially is it true of English that its 
chief stumbling-block is the pronunciation, 
and those who have studied long and learned 
much have so little hold on our strange com- 
binations that their speech is often nearly 
impossible to follow. An advanced class, 
reading " Evangeline,'^ could by no means 
have been understood, except by one well 
used to the pupils, or well versed in the poem. 
That such mutilated jargon could exist in 
** The forest primeval, the wavering pines 
and the hemlocks," one would never have 
guessed. It would seem that the first step in 
making English practical should be exact 
pronunciation of our difficult sounds, and 
whether the disastrous results, as noticed 
within and without schools all over the em- 
pire, were due to lack of care in teaching, 

272 



hi the Heart of Japan 

or to the fact that accurate speech was quite 
beyond the tireless effort of the teacher, I 
could not decide. Certainly the sincerest 
attempts of the speaker are often most bewil- 
dering to the hearer. '' Ivanhoe," as ren- 
dered by the advanced students of the uni- 
versity, was most difficult to follow, and al- 
most as unintelligible to me as if it were a 
Japanese translation. 

The English department contained a li- 
brary of encyclopaedias, essays, and novels, 
and here was the only attempt at schoolroom 
decoration to relieve the bareness of the 
walls. A cheerful display of photographs 
brightened the rooms, and impressed the 
greatness of English heroes, giving evidence 
of the touch of a foreign hand. Shakespeare, 
Tennyson, Milton were present, with fac- 
similes of their autograph letters, from the 
British Museum. Burns's Cottage, Windsor 
Castle, Parliament Buildings, and old cathe- 
drals spoke of history and architecture in a 
distant land. In one room, I was attracted 
by the photographs of Robert and Elizabeth 
Browning. ^' She deed write ze ^ Cry of ze 
Children ' varee nice," said my little guide, 
and I wondered what schoolgirl in America 
could name any classic of Japanese literature! 

273 



A Woman Alone 
Miss Hewes 

To Miss Hewes, of Oxford, were owed the 
foreign contributions. In her around-the- 
world tour, she lectured extensively through- 
out the island, and taught English in the 
University. Her tactless assertion against the 
^' American-English ^^ was hard on the teach- 
ers, but let them watch their words and 
guard their lips, ere they too speedily repudi- 
ate the criticism, which certainly had a germ 
of truth. Extremely faulty English, among 
those who should be professional models, is 
a sad reflection on our public schools, and we 
are often tempted to ask, " Have the schools 
ceased to teach English?" When the teach- 
ers make the very usual errors of " like " for 
" as," when they say " this much " and '^ those 
kind," they condemn themselves, and they 
should correct the faults ere they bubble over 
with wrath and bewail the general charge. 
The criticism was sweeping and severe, and 
it worked havoc for American teachers 
among the Japanese, who want the best and 
who are easily influenced. Miss Hewes did 
good work for the little people, whose love 
followed her to England. They speak of 
her always in the tenderest terms, and her 

274 



In the Heart of Japan 

picture adorns many a scholar^s little sanc- 
tum. Another English lady now fills her 
position. 

Student Life 

About nine hundred pupils are in the Uni- 
versity, with a faculty of nearly fifty. One- 
half the scholars are day pupils, paying 
twenty-seven and a half yen for tuition a 
year, or nearly fourteen dollars. The board- 
ers pay six and a half yen a month in addi- 
tion, or three dollars and twenty-five cents, 
so that the entire expense of board and tui- 
tion for a year of ten months is, in round 
numbers, forty-six dollars. Not a huge sum 
for a college education; but life is so humble 
in Japan that this amount can only be raised 
in well-to-do families. 

The school buildings are flanked by large 
dormitories, and the boarders are divided 
into eight squads, each having its supervis- 
ing matron. Spotless mattings and fresh, 
new wood are a feature of the tiny nests. 
Oddly enough, in this new institution, based 
on foreign methods, every bedroom is strictly 
native. It seems a wise provision, and it is 
followed in many of the mission schools, that 

275 



A Woman Alone 

the pupils who arc absorbing the new learn- 
ing shall not grow out of harmony and out 
of sympathy with home life and native ways, 
but shall keep in touch with the life which 
they must follow when they leave the school, 
strengthened for work by the new thoughts 
they have garnered. Hence, every native 
room is marked by emptiness and cleanliness. 
No cot or couch is seen, no garment or toilet 
article is in sight. A severe simplicity marks 
every room. A very low table, at which the 
occupant kneels, a shelf ranged with books, 
and occasionally a loved photograph are the 
items which relieve the utter bareness. It 
is easy to sweep an empty room, and it can 
always be neat. It is a happy, peaceful con- 
trast to the tossed-up, littered-up, harum- 
scarum apartment of the average American 
schoolgirl, piled with an inartistic muddle 
of the odds and ends, the trophies and em- 
blems of our vigorous life. Repose breathes 
in every corner of the Japanese student's 
room. Rows of tin boxes, with the soap and 
tooth-brush of each little lady, are in a near 
closet. The pupils all go to the general 
wash-room for their daily bath at the immac- 
ulate sink of wood, with its high-polished 
basin of brass. 

276 



In the Heart of Japan 

In the cooking class alternate days are 
given to foreign and native cookery. A fat 
and jolly native, who superintended the 
work, kindly welcomed me in her domain, 
where the girls were eagerly devouring the 
meal which they had prepared, of fish, rice, 
and fruits. 

The native love of floriculture is worked 
out in the gardens, where scholars are al- 
lowed the freedom of perfecting their own 
plans and following their individual ideas. 
As a result, the beds were bright with beauti- 
ful and thrifty blossoms. 

President Narusi 

Unity is the watchword of Japan. It is 
the land of mighty results from small begin- 
nings. It has no multimillionaire, no Pier- 
pont Morgan or Carnegie as munificent bene- 
factor, but it has loyal, loving hearts, and 
patriots willing to give generously from the 
fortunes that are small. In America, where 
we give by millions, and have barely time to 
utter a polite " thank you " for a few thou- 
sands, we can hardly grasp the brave effort 
of President Naruse, who fathered the insti- 
tution, and his supreme gratitude for all 

277 



A IVoman Alone 

donations. Thousands here are more than 
millions in America, where institutions are 
born in the night, and seem like indigenous 
plants with a spontaneous growth. In the 
Nippon isle the scale is never colossal, the 
resources are Lilliputian, but faith is gigan- 
tic, and results come with long, untiring 
effort. 

A few figures will be a practical illus- 
tration of the relative values of things in 
Japan, and will prove the tremendous energy 
of the founder and his heroic faith in the 
new institution. 

Count Okuma 

Valiant supporters have upheld Naruse 
from the start. Count Okuma, Japan's great 
statesman, chairman of the trustees, has 
worked with him from the beginning of the 
plan. In the political world he has written 
his name on the scroll of fame. He is a 
hero, a living martyr to his principles, wear- 
ing a wooden leg as the result of a dastardly 
attack upon his person years ago. He has 
brightened the lustre of his noble name by 
the strong stand he has taken for the advance- 
ment of woman. 

278 




MR. DOGURA 



In the Heart of Japan 

Other Benefactors of the University 

Other great names are enshrined in the 
hearts of the appreciative people. The noted 
Mitsui family gave four and a half acres 
as the site of the new University. In the 
day of doubt, when darkness brooded over 
the whole embryonic scheme, Mr. Dogura 
and Mme. Hiro-oka each gave five thousand 
yen, and generously told Mr. Naruse that if 
the plan failed, they would have no regret 
for the money. These were all monumental 
gifts, when one considers the miniature scale 
of things Japanese. Mr. Ichizaemon Mori- 
mura has the fame of being the largest donor 
to the University. Recently, in the name of 
his family, he presented thirty thousand yen 
cash, or fifteen thousand dollars, to the Uni- 
versity, the largest gift ever made by any one 
person in Japan to such an institution. 

Every individual feels herself essential to 
the good of all, and faculty and pupils unite 
for general welfare. A sense of personal 
ownership pervades, which stimulates the 
work and gives a loyal public spirit. The 
thought of individual responsibility is a 
guarantee for the success of the whole. The 
founder has extensive plans for the future, 

279 



A iVoman Alone 

and he sees in this hopeful beginning the 
germs of a grand development. The Uni- 
versity is founded for the betterment of 
v^oman, w^hich means the uplift of mother- 
hood, and that means the good of the nation. 
It is planted on the hill, to be a centre of 
light, to vv^ield a force for good, to carry a 
v^ealth of knowledge throughout the empire. 
That wroman's name shall be honoured and 
her pov^er for righteousness be increased is 
the object of the institution. 

The Academy of Music 

We alv^ays feel a patriotic pride when we 
trace a foreign virtue to its origin on the 
home soil, and the Hub of America, some- 
times called the Hub of the Universe, may 
rightly claim to be the origin of the institu- 
tion which stands among stately trees and 
sacred tombs in Ueno Park, a joy and bless- 
ing to hundreds of students who knock at its 
doors. 

Mr. Mason 

Twenty years ago, a musical man from 
Japan came to America. He noted the pop- 

280 




MR. AND MRS. MITSl'I 




MME. HIRO-OKA MR. MOKI.NU KA 

BENEFACTORS OF THE UNIVERSITY 



In the Heart of Japan 

ular education of the country and the musical 
intelligence of the people. In the Boston 
schools he found an enthusiast who was 
teaching the children with marked success. 
The gentleman transported this gifted leader 
to his own country, believing him the one 
man capable to impart that musical love and 
life which would be a lasting blessing in 
Japan. The Boston teacher first tilled the 
ground and sowed the seed which others 
have cultivated, till a mighty growth results, 
and branches from the mother-tree have 
sprung up all over the island. New ideas 
are always hard to plant. The school which 
stands for broad musical culture had its 
fierce struggle, and its long day of proba- 
tion, when it was small and obscure, an un- 
recognized factor in the community. 

XJeno Park 

The Musical Academy rears its walls to- 
day upon historic ground. Great changes 
have come in the empire since the time when 
the last shogun defied the emperor in bloody 
battle upon the beautiful field of Ueno. No 
one heeds the shogun now. He is a private 
citizen, living in retirement. Occasionally 

281 



A Woman Alone 

he worships at the tomb of his ancestors, but 
never again will he oppose the emperor as in 
the days of bygone power. He is the last 
of a long and illustrious line, but he has 
accepted the inevitable, the reign of his rival 
as the recognized head. Lately he met with 
an accident, while driving privately in the 
capital which he once ruled. What contrast 
to those days of gorgeous cavalcades and 
gilded glory, when he was followed by a 
mighty retinue of noble daimios and brave 
samurai, a resplendent pageant to do him 
homage. Marks of the imperial struggle 
are still seen on the posts of Ueno, and 
thoughts of the late revolution sweep over 
the modern historian who passes through the 
wonderful park for entrance at the doors of 
the academy, which only six years ago was 
in embryo. Then the school of sixty mem- 
bers received a push and an impulse, and 
it now enrolls more than four hundred pu- 
pils, with five foreigners included in its 
faculty of thirty teachers. The scholars pay 
the merely nominal fee of one or two yen 
a month, a small fraction of the cost, that 
the scholar may feel that he gives his mite 
and retains his self-respect. 



282 



In the Heart of Japan 

Prof, August Yunker 

Great strides have been made since Mr. 
Mason gave his first music lesson in Japan. 
He found general ignorance regarding for- 
eign music. We find general intelligence 
and a hunger and thirst for the best. 

The success of the early beginnings has 
been furthered by the energy, ability, and 
ambition of the present director. Prof. Au- 
gust Yunker is a German, proud to call him- 
self American, one whose loyalty to the land 
of his adoption is revealed in every refer- 
ence. He has the natural musical love, the 
fire, and the knowledge of the true German. 
As skilled violinist, he played for many years 
under Theodore Thomas in the Boston Sym- 
phony. The academy had neither orchestra 
nor chorus when he came to Tokio. The 
regime was more chaotic than systematic. 
He established method and developed order. 
He imparted zeal and created enthusiasm, 
like the true-born teacher. He worked for a 
standard, with all the ardour born of broad 
culture and pure love. Results have fol- 
lowed upon his earnest efforts. The visitor 
who recalls the recent seclusion of these peo- 
ple, their late awakening and acceptance of 

283 



A IVoman Alone 

things foreign and up-to-date, is unprepared 
for the burst of modern music which greets 
him, and mutters in wonderment as he 
threads the long corridors, "Just like any 
college of music in America.'' It is hard 
to grasp the truth that one hears and sees 
Boston methods in Ueno Academy. 

In the Class-room 

English is an important branch of the 
work, and a class of thirty boys and girls 
were correcting their exercises, just as Ameri- 
can scholars struggle with their Latin prose, 
and were differentiating with difficulty be- 
tween the adverb " too " and the preposition 
" to.'' The efforts of teacher and pupils 
were patient and earnest, but her native pro- 
nunciation of the foreign tongue left it far 
from being intelligible, and accented the need 
of a foreign teacher for a foreign language. 
The politeness and ceremony which mark a 
Japanese class-room leave no room for joke 
or levity, and impress the stranger with a 
dignity which is almost cold and stolid. In 
such high respect is the teacher held that 
anything approaching chumship or comrade- 



284 



In the Heart of Japan 

ship is unknown to the formal Japanese 
mind. 

In the practice-room there appeared the 
same devotion to art. The student, begin- 
ning or advanced, kept steadily at work, 
without regard to the visitor who read the 
notes or followed the execution. Once or 
twice a giggling little girl did show a con- 
sciousness of company, which proved her 
quite human, while her companions had been 
decidedly statuesque as far as any emotion 
was concerned. 

The jarring, jangling notes of their pianos 
would have tried the heart and the nerves 
of any music-lover. The institution cannot 
entrust its few grand instruments, which are 
reserved for state occasions, to the constant 
pounding of unskilled fingers. Usually the 
pupils have no instrument in their homes, 
and the practice required, of two or three 
hours daily, is done at the conservatory, and 
an instrument which comes under the ham- 
mer of many children gets a wear and tear 
not common in the private home. A piano 
in Japan is a luxury, only to be found in 
princely homes. The comfortable middle 
class in Japan is very poor, poverty poor, if 
judged by our standards, and the necessity 

285 



A Woman Alone 

of the American miner or day labourer 
would be a luxury in Japan. A number of 
scholars own a harmonicum, made in Japan, 
of three or four octaves, which would cost 
fifty or sixty yen, and this is a matter of wild 
extravagance. A grander instrument would 
be far beyond their reach. 

Attending school six days in the week, 
from eight A. M. till four P. M., these pupils 
are not all children, but many of them are 
beyond their teens. Some are earnest young 
men. Others are married women of twenty- 
three or five years, devoting their time to 
music. Often the husbands are army or navy 
men, away for months or years, and the little 
wives, living at home, leave the babies in the 
care of their elders while they are away 
at the conservatory. These people, so long 
trammelled by tradition, and so recently re- 
vealed to themselves, are consumed with the 
zeal for learning. Often, too, they have the 
money interest at stake, which is a goad to 
their ambition. The Ueno school stands 
well, and with advancing years the entrance 
examinations have grown harder. They de- 
mand intelligence in the applicants, and 
many have been turned away who did not 
come up to the standard. On completing 

286 



In the Heart of Japan 

the course, graduates receive a diploma and 
go out as authorized teachers, whose work 
is respected in the land. A salary of thirty 
yen a month seems very large, and fifty yen, 
earned by teachers exceptionally good, is a 
princely sum for those whose needs are few 
and living expenses light. 

Professor Yunke/s Classes 

The visitor to Professor Yunker's classes 
receives a startling surprise, both for the 
matter and the manner of the music ren- 
dered. His sympathy and magnetism have 
broken down the national formality and re- 
serve, and warm German friendship, born 
of large heart and musical love, prevails. 
Spontaneity has replaced stolidity, and one 
feels the sympathy existing between teacher 
and scholar. The pupils long to prove their 
power, as they catch the glow of his burning 
enthusiasm. He inspires them to noble 
achievement. He stirs the natural respon- 
siveness of youth in contrast with the dull 
repression in the presence of the native 
teacher. He numbers among his products 
a lady who has for some time been teacher 
to the crown princess. Another of his 

287 



A Woman Alone 

scholars went abroad to continue her work 
under Joachim, and has returned as a superb 
artiste in her own country. It was certainly 
keen pleasure to the wanderer to hear the 
orchestral rendering of Schubert's Unfin- 
ished Symphony. I might shut my eyes and 
believe that I listened to the trained orches- 
tras at home. It was difficult to realize 
that little Japanese people were doing the 
good work. Violins, flutes, oboes, bass viols, 
'cellos caught the spirit of their leader, and 
were true to his efficient teaching. 

The amazing results of the chorus proved 
the latent possibilities in raw material when 
a superior guide, with the very genius for 
teaching, is untrammelled in his work. The 
chorus opened with a simultaneous and vig- 
orous attack. Smoothness and evenness were 
a happy feature. Shading and phrasing, so 
essential to effective results, were carefully 
worked out. Enunciation was distinct, and 
again I found it hard to realize that the 
clear and clean-cut English rang from Japa- 
nese throats. It is so seldom that the native 
gets our accent straight and pure that the 
fine result must be accredited to the in- 
structor. 

A high standard of classic composition is 

288 



In the Heart of Japan 

preserved. An air from Schumann was 
beautifully rendered. Selections from Men- 
delssohn's ^' Paulus " and from Haydn's 
" Creation " were triumphs of execution. 

Two visits of the empress during the year, 
when the best efforts are put forth in con- 
certs, give great stimulus to the ambitious 
students. Among his foreign assistants. Pro- 
fessor Yunker has had for some years a 
French priest who is skilled in harmony, 
counterpoint, and the organ. With praise 
or blame, the professor is most impartial. 
He believes that the girls are generally more 
patient and more gifted than the boys, and 
therefore they show better results. There 
are especial prodigies among these little 
midgets, and the same petty weaknesses crop 
out, the same envy and jealousy are shown, 
among these geniuses of lesser growth as 
appear in other nations among famed musi- 
cians. Great stars are frail, and subject to 
heartburnings. Bitter rivalries exist be- 
tween world-wide geniuses. These little 
novices are just as human, and musical war- 
fare often wages near the shoguns' tombs 
beneath the shade and in the classic halls of 
Ueno. Often these lesser stars are criticized 
and ridiculed, spiked and impaled, with all 

289 



A Woman Alone 

the native rigour and stoicism of bitter war, 
for no other reason than their superiority 
and excellence. 

May it be the last great boom of woman's 
higher education that in her greatness she 
shall put aside all pettiness. May her 
broader culture and her larger vision lift her 
out of self, to make her just and generous 
to rival friend or foe. Till that day dawns, 
at home or abroad, woman's education has 
failed of success, and she is neither well 
educated nor truly great. 



THE END. 



290 



INDEX 



Ajcademy of Music, Tokio, 

280-290. 
Arai, Mr., 94. 
Arashiyama Rapids, 27, 56- 

61. 
Art, Japanese, 186-188, 264. 
Artificial flowers, 265-266. 
Arts and crafts, 1 19-128. 
Asylum, A visit to the, l8l- 

190. 
Athletic Association, t2. 

Barnes, Mary Sheldon, 269. 
Baths, Public, 6-7, 83-84, 89- 

90, 109-110. 
Blind, The, 12-13, 185-186. 
Benkei, 49-50. 
Boothby, Sir Brooks, 147. 
Box-making industry, 123- 

124. 
Buddhism, 200-210. 

Cherry - blossom festivities, 

26-36. 
Chuzenji, 103-107, 108. 
Consumption, Prevalence of, 

230-231. 
Customs inspection, 2. 

Daisha, Kobe, 88, 104. 
Damien, Father, 172. 
Dancing, I93-I95- 
Deaf and dumb, The, 182- 
185, 187. 



Dogura, Mr., 279. 

Earthquakes, 5-6. 
Embroidery, i, 262-264. 

Family life, 9, 12, 86-87, 116- 
117, 120-121, 135-136, 149- 
150. 

Fencmg, 203-204. 

Fuji, Mount, i, 88, 91. 

Fur industry, 1 19-120. 

Geishas, 34, 39, 77, 78, 93-94, 

96, 114-115, 137, 140, 191- 

199. 
Girls' High School of Tokio, 

266-269. 
Girls' Industrial School of 

Tokio, 261-266. 
"Great Hell," 90-91. 

Hagiwara and his inn, 159- 

160, 163-166, 176. 
Heihachee, the Guide, 157- 

163, 165-166, 175-178. 
Fewes, Miss, 274-275. 
H'deyoshi, 97. 
Hiro-oka, Mme., 279. 

lemitsu, 97. 

I eyas u, 97, 102. 

Ikao, 142-152, 155-158, 177- 
Hot Springs, 147- 
Ikao House, 156, 160. 



291 



Index 



Iron-cloth, 148-149. 
Kindayu House, 143- 146, 

147, 156, 177. 
Shops, 147-148. 
Inari, 153. 

Judo School, 210-217. 

Kakke, Prevalence of, 231. 
Kano, Professor, 210-21 1. 
Kawada, Mr., 258-259. 
Kindayu, Mr. and Mrs,, 143- 

146, 156-157. 
Kioto, 29, 30-47, 54, 56, 57, 

71, 234. 

Asylum, 181-190. 

Ceremonious tea-party, 30- 

33. 
Cherry-blossom dance, 33- 

36. 
Kioto Hotel, 69, 189, 190. 
Public procession of pros- 
titutes, 36-47. 
Wrestling, 61-68. 
Kitai, 86. 
Kobe, 29. 
Kusatsu, 166-174. 
Leper village, 170-173. 
Sulphur baths, 155, 166- 
170. 

Uake Biwa Canal, 54-56. 
Lake Chuzenji, 106. 
Lake Hakone, 87-89. 
Lake YumotO', 108-110, 151. 
Lepers, 164, 170-173. 

Maebashi, 143, 148. 
Mason, Mr., 280-281, 283. 
Massage, School of, 188-191. 
Matsushima, 137, 140. 
Miidera, 50. 
Mitsui, House of, 242-249, 

279. 
Miyanoshita, 84-86. 

Fugiya Hotel, 85. 

Shops, 86. 
Monkeys, Sacred, ioo, 126. 



Morimura, Ichizaemon, 279. 
Music, Native, 125-126, 196- 
197. 

Nagoya, 75-78. 

Castle, ^^-77. 
Nantaizan, 107-108. 
Naruse, President, 269-270, 

277-278, 279. 
Nectarine of Yokohama, 2, 

21-25. 
Nicolai, Bishop, 219-225. 
Nikko, 92-103, 106, iii-i33» 

148. 

Procession of the Sho- 
guns' spirits, 92, 97-103. 

Shops, 93, 1 13-128. 

Temple bell, 131-132. 

Wet season, 128-130. 
Nippon Yusen Kaisha, 255- 

258. 

Okuma, Count, 270, 278. 
Otani, Kahei, 235-241. 

Perry, Commodore, 151. 
Pine-tree, The Sacred, 51-54. 
Politeness, 8-9, 17-19, 52-54, 

71-72, 75, 118, 151-152. 
Prostitutes, Public procession 

of, at Kioto, 36-47. 

Railroad, Travelling by, 69- 

75, 140-142. 
Red Cross in Japan, The, 

225-233. 
Rice culture, 249-251. 
Rice Exchange, 251-253. 
Rikshas and rikmen, 2-5, 48, 

52-53, 65, 75, 77, 84-85, 104- 

106, no, 159, 175-176, 248- 

249. 

Sanitation, 9-10. 
Sendai, 134-139, 165. 

Famous chests, 134-136. 
Shintoism, 48-49, 98-104, 200. 
Shinto shrine, 153-154. 



292 



Index 



Silk industry, 119, 242. 

Sorceress, A, 154. 

Stock Exchange, 253-256. 

Sulphur baths, 155, 166-171. 

Sumida River, 28. 

Swami Rah Tirth, 204-209. 

Tea etiquette, 30-33, 160, 197- 

199. 
Tea Industry, 234-241. 
Temples, 48-51. 
Theatre in Japan, The, 19-21, 

33-36, 94, 95-96. 
Tokio, 27, 28, 54, t2y 86, 134, 

141, 143, 201. 

Academy of Music, 280- 
290. 

B'uddhist University, 202- 
210. 

French Convent, 85. 

Girls' High School, 266- 
269. 

Girls' Industrial School, 
261-266. 

Judo School, 210-217. 

Mitsui's store, 243-249. 

Red Cross Hospital, 226- 

233- 
Rice Exchange, 251-253. 
Russian Mission and 

Cathedral, 218-225. 
Stock Exchange, 253-256. 
Ueno Park, 2^^ 28, 225, 

280-282. 



Woman's University, 269- 
280. 
Tsunejira, Tomita, 210, 214- 
216. 

Ubago, Hot Springs of, 89- 

91. 
Ueno Park, 27, 28, 225, 280- 

282. 
Uji, 234. 

Welcome Society, 179-180. 
Woman's University of 

Tokio, 269-280. 
Wood-carving industry, 121- 

122, 148. 
Wrestling and wrestlers, 61- 

68, 210-217. 

Yokohama, 1-25, 27, 29, 71, 

235, 236. 

Bazaars, 16. 

Bentend^ri, i. 

Bluff, The, I, 4. 

Customs inspection, 2. 

Honchodori, i. 

Motomachi, i. 

Nectarine, 2, 21-25. 

Street sights, 10-15. 

Theatre, 19-21. 

Theatre Street, 2, 13-15. 
Yumoto, 151. 
Yunker, August, 283, 287- 

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